The Bitter Wake
by type-writes
Summary: Bellatrix would crucify herself before she admitted she needed Hermione's help, but that didn't make it any less true. Under the circumstances, Hermione might even oblige. Bellamione, Harry's-dead AU, branches off from canon at Dumbledore's death. A three part story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Hi, this is my first fanfiction on here, so I will greatly appreciate any feedback you can give :)_

 _I need to thank NotesFromTheChamber (previously known as MeltingSunlight) for helping me get back into writing. I stopped writing for a couple of years and this story has been my way back. Without her help planning and editing, and her all-round awesomeness, this fanfiction would not exist. So thank you, Notes, you're amazing and I love you._

 _Anyway, I won't drone on too much, I just hope you enjoy it._

— — —

In retrospect, it had been a long three days.

There was little, Hermione had found– if anything at all– she could do to blot out the blunt shock of Harry's death, or the still-lingering feeling of nausea she had felt when Ronald had finally subdued her enough to carry her back into the castle.

Deserted as it was, the Gryffindor common room still held an amniotic feeling of warmth and safety, but the comfort Hermione could salvage from it was fleeting. Even the fire struggled to make a dent in the cold that had settled over her.

For the first twenty-four hours, Ron had ground himself to dust against her muted defences, tirelessly going from tactic to tactic in his attempts to reanimate a girl he was quickly realising had served as his rock for a long time. Whether it was because he truly cared, or because he just didn't know who he was without her constant corrections, scoldings and guidance, Hermione wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.

By the time the sun rose over the great lake on the second day, the assaults had stopped. Ron had run out of willpower almost insultingly quickly, Hermione had thought, but perhaps that was unfair under the circumstances. Did grief do that to people? Or had she always been unfair to him, only now able to see it through this new lens?

Whichever answer rang true, the redhead had began to drift when he realised that his friend wasn't 'going to be better in the morning' as he had predicted the afternoon before. His halfhearted attempts at conversation had gradually faded and ceased, the half-hourly check-ups following suit. He left her alone and grieved similarly. Hermione felt it was for the best. It was, in fact, one of the only things she felt.

She had later taken a bath to force herself to move over the genuine need to, dimly aware of how much energy it had taken out of her when she later collapsed back in bed. Everything took energy, by then. Even the idea of basic activity was enough to drain her.

Now, the sun was almost as high as it would get in the sky a whole three days later, and Hermione was still holed up in her Dormitory, faced with a silent, empty head for the first time in her life.

Ron had gone back to the Burrow early that morning, leaving behind a sense of relief for Hermione. Ironically, for the first time now, knowing she wouldn't be risking running into him and any attempts he might have left to crack the glass of the fishbowl she had plunged herself into, she felt as though she could breathe. She finally felt steady enough to venture out of her den.

She pulled her robes on over her pyjamas, not sparing a single thought for her usual levels of properness, and took a deep breath. If she was fast enough, she might be able to make the tail-end of lunch in the great hall, which would at least help to put McGonagall's mind at rest. She knew the professor was worrying over her, and it would be nice to eat outside of the silence of the common room without relying on an elf to deliver her every meal.

The portrait hole swung open, and the familiar smell of stone and parchment rushed through Hermione's hair and into the stuffy room behind her.

 _Speak of the devil._ The brunette thought, immediately feeling bad for relating her favourite teacher to the devil.

"-and far be it for me to disagree with the minister, but to let all the students go early and create more speculation? He clearly drowned, and the level of _dishonesty_ in that rag of a paper-"

"Indeed." Snape deliberately cut the older woman off as he noted Hermione watching them, and McGonagall's eyes went from agitated to understanding as she, too, clocked the reason for his abruptness.

Hermione watched the two teachers silently, Minerva's pitying gaze and Snape's bitter equivalent, before the Slytherin house leader pressed his lips into a thin line and stalked away without another word.

The Gryffindor's eyes fell on her favourite professor again, but Minerva only smiled sadly at her and followed Snape down the hall.

 _So they're saying he drowned,_ she thought and her mind started to wander.

— — —

The library was quiet, very quiet, in fact. Hermione furiously pulled out books and flicked through their pages, putting them back in the wrong order, which was much unlike her. Across the room, sitting quietly to himself with a quill and some parchment was Draco Malfoy.

Every now and then he'd look up, only to wish he hadn't, when Hermione– now on the verge of sweating due to her hurried attempts to get through book after book– graced his line of sight. It was only when Hermione would feel his gaze and her eyes would snap up to meet his that he'd hurriedly get back to writing.

By the time Hermione left the Library for the Dorms once more, the blonde was even closer to breaking a sweat than she had been. The library's general reading had brought up nothing interesting, as much as Hermione had hoped it would.

With ample amount of time before dinner, Hermione decided to have a bath and browse critically through the first chapter of one book that had actually piqued her interest in the library, to see if she deemed it worth reading all the way through. It was an adventure novel, one she surprisingly hadn't read yet. Once the water and the bubbles had risen sufficiently, Hermione shrugged off her robe and pyjamas and climbed steadily into the prickling heat of the bath.

She decided rather quickly that the book wasn't going to be the best she had ever read, but that it wasn't shaping up to be a disappointment either. Even if it had been terrible, shoddy writing felt like a small pain to endure for the offer of immersion into a world other than her own right now. She checked the time after each chapter until she was sure she couldn't fit in another without making herself late for dinner, at which point she finally put the book down with little time to dry and dress.

Slowly and resentfully, Hermione pushed herself out of the water and dried herself with a spell. She changed into the first pair jeans she found in her wardrobe and the same sweatshirt she'd brought to the bathroom with her, before making her way directly to the Great Hall, clutching the book to her chest like armour.

Since there were so few students and teachers in the school now, everyone sat at the teacher's table. This apparently was something that happened during the holidays too, when everyone else had gone and it was just the select few students who stayed. Hermione could tell that Draco was used to the set up due to the fact that, on the first day after everyone left, he took his place casually at the far left end of the table before Minerva had even breathed a word of the arrangement to the others. Hermione made a point of sitting at the other end of the table, furthest away from him, every mealtime.

There was a lot of chicken for dinner this time, but Hermione's appetite was lacking. She ate a small portion of food and poked at a dessert uninterestedly with a fork. When students started to filter out of the Great Hall, she followed suit, making her way to her dorm yet again where she planned to wait until curfew to continue her search.

— — —

Her trip to the Restricted Section was lacking to begin with. With a lamp on a table so she could read and her wand to light the way when she went looking for another title, Hermione spent hours pulling out books and examining different articles.

Somewhere under the lamplight, she found a mention of the Giant Squid, but no record could be found of it hurting people before. From what Hermione already knew about it, it was a rather placid creature. She also read a small article about merpeople, so without a second thought she branched out her search to other sea creatures but nothing was even close to Harry's death, much to her disappointment.

Shoving the book she'd been reading away from her in a blind rage, it slid across the desk and made a very satisfying thumping noise as it hit the bookshelf behind it. Hermione felt a twinge of guilt for treating the book with such little care– she was usually so gentle, so caring– but it was quickly washed away by more pressing, demanding emotions such as frustration and determination.

She leaned back in her chair, head back, running a small hand thought her hair to rid herself of the tangles she'd accumulated during her frantic search.

 _If only there was a way to rewind time,_ she thought.

Of course, she'd thought about using her Time Turner, but McGonagall had already warned her about the dangers of using such a tool to correct something as final as death. She remembered the teacher visiting her in the Common Room on the second day after Harry's death, after Ron had started to drift, and had told her not to act impulsively. The words were far and few between, but Hermione knew exactly what the house mistress had meant.

Again, Hermione found herself feeling guilty.

She was so incredibly deep in thought that when Crookshanks leapt up onto the table, she jumped.

" _You_ ," she closed her eyes, exhaling shakily, "you've got to give me some warning, you know."

The animal meowed as Hermione pulled the ball of ginger fur into her lap and, despite his growls of protest, ended up purring when she rubbed behind his ears.

"What do you think, hm?" Hermione thought aloud, something she often did when Crookshanks was around and they were alone. She continued to ponder all the possibilities, all the things that she knew of that could have killed her best friend, weighing up which ones were most or least likely.

"-and I just don't think…" Hermione trailed off as something caught her eye.

Poking out from the page in the book she'd shoved across the desk was what looked like a piece of paper. Reaching across the desk to get it, Crookshanks jumping up onto the table again to give her more room, she opened the book at the page it marked.

The page was entitled _The Water_ and it explained the element's various uses in spells, potions and other aspects of spellcraft. She glanced over the page and, seeing that there was nothing there that she didn't already know, turned her attention to the newspaper clippings which were now in her right hand.

There were two of them, stuck together and faded with age. Slowly peeling them apart revealed the first clipping, a long article that was hard to read past the stains and fading, and the second clipping, which showed a small paragraph with a sickening photograph.

It was of a man, his eyes and lips covered with black patches, his skin swollen and sore, and water dribbling from his mouth uncontrollably as if it had a never-ending source. Hermione couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her lips, the tears that welled in her eyes, as she thought of Harry lying on the shore of the Great Lake with similar symptoms.

Hermione tried to clean the clippings up with a spell to make them more legible, but nothing seemed to work, so she did her best to read what she could. They were both roughly the same, naming the victim and listing the symptoms. It included a small amount about the victim's personal life but didn't stretch beyond how devastated the family was to find their loved one in such a state. She had hoped to find a little more about them, but unfortunately there wasn't much to go on.

What really caught Hermione's attention, however, was the way that the writers each implied that the victims were murdered.

Hermione started pulling out other books about water and sea creatures, even broadening her search further by looking into spells and potions. She even hoped to find another newspaper clipping, but nothing came up.

Feeling that she had exhausted all options in the Restricted Section– and exhausted herself– and believing that she might have better luck elsewhere, she pocketed the clippings she had and hastily put her books away before she left.

Hermione was on her way back to her dorm when she spied Snape. In a blind moment of panic, not wanting her least favourite teacher to catch her wandering around the castle at such a ridiculous hour, the brunette ducked into the first room she could touch the door to. She soon realised that she was in the old girls' bathroom.

Letting out a sigh of relief as she head Snape's footsteps come and go, she was about to take her leave when she heard the sound of an all too familiar giggle, making her turn.

It was only then that she managed to take a proper look at the place and, with a small smile, she remembered successfully brewing Polyjuice Potion in her second year on the floor. Now, however, standing in the exact spot that she'd positioned her cauldron, stood Myrtle.

"It's been a while since I last saw you," the ghost said.

Hermione stepped forward, smiling slightly. "It has."

"I heard the news," Myrtle floated around the sinks, snivelling quietly. "It can't be true, can it? Harry's not dead. I clearly recall inviting him to share my bathroom, and he's no where to be seen."

Hermione watched the pale figure curiously as she replied. "It's true. Sorry." Her apology was closer to a question.

"Tragic," her voice echoed throughout the bathroom, the sound of water dripping intensifying. "But if you should come across him, let him know from me that the offer's still- _open_." The ghost pushed a cubicle door open pointedly and disappeared inside with an annoying giggle.

Hermione didn't want to talk about this.

"I think I'll be going," she muttered, but the ghost had to get one last word in before she could leave.

"You'll be welcome, too, if you ever get bored. Or killed. Or both." She called.

"You're disgusting," Hermione spat, quickly making her escape, the ghost cackling behind her.

The young witch sighed. The thought of going back to the Gryffindor Common Room was draining in itself, so she instead made her way to the bridge that overlooked the Great Lake.

It was, for some reason, always a longer walk than expected to the bridge, but it felt longer in the misty chill of the night. Hermione's breath plumed out in front of her and over her shoulders as she walked, not using her wand to illuminate her path for fear of being spotted from the castle windows.

When she arrived at her destination, Hermione felt hot tears prick at the sight of the great lake and its fateful shore, and buried her face in the arms that she had folded on soft-worn wooden railing.

What she wouldn't give to be able to go back, stop him from leaving when they were standing on the Astronomy Tower or at least go with him when he did, made sure he got to Hagrid's safely.

The giant had said he'd never made it there, that he hadn't even known Harry was coming to see him at all. That wasn't unusual, of course– Harry often turned up unannounced at Hagrid's. He had followed them up to Dumbledore's old office before the decision had been made to send the students home early, and the owls had been sent to tell the Ministry what had happened. He seemed to blame himself now even more than Hermione was convinced she was going to blame herself in the future if she didn't get to the bottom of what had happened that day.

For the first time since leaving her dorm that day, and a long time by her new standards, Hermione cried. It wasn't just a few tears or a snivel, she cried so her sobs could be heard from the ends of the bridge. Harry was dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she finally lifted her head, the cold air quickly drying her tear-stained cheeks. She looked down at the lake again only for her eyes to narrow as she strained to see something that she hadn't seen before.

It was a person, black cloak billowing in the wind. Hermione could see the unruly black curls fall across the comparatively ghostly paleness of the witch's face. After the battle in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione would be able to recognise the Death Eater from a mile away. She watched for a moment, but Bellatrix just seemed to be standing there, looking out at the water.

 _How did she get past the wards?_ Hermione blinked, the gravity of what she was seeing hitting her square in the chest. Panicking, she tore her eyes from the woman and ran as quietly as she could from where she was standing to the grassy banks that sloped down to the water's edge, peering to get a closer look before raising the alarm.

But the figure of Bellatrix Lestrange was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Thank you everyone who favourited/followed/commented on the first chapter, it means a lot. Feedback is always appreciated, even if it's just a couple words! It's nice to know_ how _you're doing when you don't know_ what _you're doing haha._

— — —

Hermione pivoted on the spot, searching the tree-lines and the shadows for any sign of movement. She didn't think Bellatrix could have gone far in such a short space of time. For a second, she pondered the idea that she may have even imagined the dark witch, but quickly dismissed the thought.

 _If I start thinking like that I'll never stop._

She was sure she'd seen Bellatrix standing right there. She looked down at the ground where Harry had been found and she frowned deeply.

 _Why?_ she thought. _Why would Bellatrix Lestrange come to this exact spot?_

She stared out at the dark, glassy surface of the lake, wondering if there was something out there Bellatrix saw that she didn't, but it was just as she remembered it; a lake, a never-ending god-forsaken pit of water.

Hermione's curiosity turned to suspicion as she looked around once more, wanting to be sure the older witch was nowhere to be seen. She felt watched, hunted, but she didn't know whether that was just because she'd seen one of the most dangerous women to walk the earth in her supposedly safe school or because Bellatrix was actually watching her.

Regardless, Hermione couldn't see the Death Eater anywhere. Her sweaty hand gripped her wand tightly, keeping it down by her side but still ready in case there was an attack.

But no attack came. In fact, everything was very quiet– so quiet it was almost eerie, one could argue. Hermione slowly started walking back the way she came, wand still drawn, looking behind her every few steps out of pure paranoia.

She even spun around and aimed her wand at empty air when the water splashed up onto the shore of the lake a little too loudly.

Soon, she was back in the comforts of the castle– could she still be comfortable after what she'd just seen?– and she hurriedly returned to her dorm, hoping again that she wouldn't be seen.

— — —

The cool air of the Monday morning seemed to hit Hermione in the face like a brick when she walked out onto the bridge again before breakfast the next morning.

Of course, she'd barely slept. Sleep had only came to her in the early hours of the morning, when she could barely keep her eyes open, and even then she had woken up an hour or two later.

She had been thinking about Bellatrix, trying desperately to figure out how she got around the anti-apparition jinx on Hogwarts. On top of that, her mind ruthlessly came up with theories as to how she could have killed Harry and left him there with such symptoms. All of them were brutal and left her feeling sick to her stomach.

She looked out at the lake again, at the exact spot she'd seen the dark witch standing before, now empty in what remained of the early morning mist. Hermione would've gone down to the shore had her stomach not growled with the promise of something to eat.

For the first time in the past few days, Hermione felt hungry. The thought of eating any large amount of food still made her feel ill, but the idea of having what constituted as a snack for the general population seemed satisfying enough for her.

Rather reluctantly, she turned from the lake and started to make her way to the Great Hall. The walk was just as long as it usually was but she was too wrapped up in her thoughts to care.

It went rather quickly, actually, and Hermione found herself wishing that she had some more time alone to think rather than sit around a table with other people and be forced to listen to their conversations.

Despite this, she walked up to the teacher's table after pushing the double doors open and took her usual seat at the right end of it. To her delight, there was bacon, pancakes and syrup. She considered these things to be luxuries, even by Hogwarts' standards, but they mostly made her think of being at home with her parents in the muggle world.

 _Harry and Ron would have fought over this,_ she chuckled internally, but the thought soon turned sad and she felt the lump in her throat rise as her heart fell.

She decided not to let the thought of Harry ruin her mood too much, so she tucked into a pancake and as much bacon as she could force herself to eat. While she was eating her food, she couldn't help but overhear two of the younger students who were sitting near her gossiping about a newspaper article.

"I heard someone killed him," the Ravenclaw girl stated, matter-of-fact.

"Skeeter wrote that there were more deaths just like it," the Hufflepuff girl nodded.

But the deaths weren't just like Harry's; his was different to theirs. He hadn't suffered so much visibly, his skin had paled and the skin around his mouth and eyes had gone a mid-grey colour, but he hadn't had black patches anywhere on his skin. Water had been dribbling from his mouth, but it was tinted with blood unlike the others.

There was something else; Harry's bones appeared to be broken, almost as if he'd struggled or fought, but there had been no sign of a struggle. It was like they'd just broken on their own.

Hermione got so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice everyone leaving the Great Hall until Draco stalked past her.

"Off with the fairies again, Granger?" he said antagonistically.

Hermione's gaze snapped up to meet his but he was already walking down between the four tables towards the door. Draco's comment hadn't evoked anger like he'd probably wanted it to. Instead, it was oddly comforting to hear the Slytherin's vile comments again. She felt less fragile. She knew it was bad when even Draco had looked at her pityingly, but now he was back to his bitter, entitled self, she felt like the world was slowly shaping back to the way it should be– the way it was.

With a tired sigh, Hermione stood up. She was going to throw something witty back at Draco but he was long gone, so she started making her way to Dumbledore's office instead. She had made the decision last night to go and investigate the old Headmaster's office in an effort to find out something about Bellatrix or the newspaper clippings.

When she finally arrived and walked in, she immediately felt uneasy. The office that had once had a homely vibe to it was now cold and empty, a thin layer of dust having settled on every surface. Dumbledore's portrait which hung on the wall was vacant, to Hermione's disappointment. Had he been there, she would have simply asked him about the newspaper clippings and Bellatrix being at the lake, but it seemed she would have to find things out for herself.

Making her way over to the bookshelf, she started at one end and made her way across. She pulled out every book, flicking through it, sometimes reading it, looking for anything that could be of help. Unfortunately, a lot like the others, they contained nothing of interest.

She sighed, looking up at the empty portrait again.

Wandering over to his desk, she ran a finger along it's surface, then rubbing it against her thumb to get rid of the dust that had stuck to it. She wrapped her fingers around the handle of the drawer, standing there awkwardly for a moment before finally opening it. It felt odd to be going through Dumbledore's belongings, even though his portrait wasn't there to see it.

In the drawer, lying side by side were a book and a ring. Hermione recognised them immediately as the two Horcruxes that had already been destroyed. There was still a hole in the diary from when Harry had destroyed it with the Basilisk fang and the ring was bent out of shape, it almost looked burnt.

Hermione found herself recalling the last conversation she'd had with Harry, standing on the Astronomy Tower with him after Dumbledore had been killed. He'd told her about Snape and the Death Eaters, about the Horcruxes and how they each contained a piece of Voldemort's soul. The locket they'd found was apparently a fake, so Harry had said he was set on finding the real one. He'd been set on finding them all, so convinced that this would be the thing that would bring the Dark Lord to an end.

He'd then hugged her, told her he was going to see Hagrid, and then no one saw him until they found his body on the shore.

Hermione slipped the diary into her pocket, then glanced at the ring. Dumbledore had already destroyed that one apparently, although how Harry had never mentioned. She pocketed it as well, wondering if it counted as theft.

She restlessly paced around the room, almost as if the more she wore down the floorboards the clearer the few pieces of the puzzle she had would become. She just wanted something to add up, anything.

She stopped at the rack of memories by the Pensieve, admiring them despite their new dusty appearance.

"There used to be a lot more," Minerva sighed.

Hermione turned at the sound of the voice. She hadn't expected anyone to bother her in the old Headmaster's office, but she didn't mind Minerva's company. The teacher had started speaking to her like a friend more than a student since Harry and Dumbledore's passing and it was comforting in ways Hermione couldn't describe. Minerva seemed to be the only one who still treated Hermione like a human being rather than an object that might break if you breathe too hard around it.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "More memories?"

Minerva nodded. "Mr Malfoy came and took some away, said it was Ministry business."

"What were the memories of?" Hermione turned back to the rack and looked at the empty spaces there were.

"Mostly deaths from the first war," Minerva walked up to the Pensieve, glancing between its rippling surface and the glass vials.

"Why would the Ministry want to take them away?" Hermione asked.

Minerva smiled sadly. "Some things are just better off put away and never seen again."

Hermione ran her finger along the dusty memory rack absentmindedly, thinking about all the horrible things the memories might contain.

"How are you?" Minerva asked.

Hermione paused, contemplating her answer.

"I'm okay," she settled for. "And yourself, Professor?"

"So much to do," Minerva laughed lightly but it seemed so forced, so sad, "I barely have the time to think."

There was a silence, a peaceful and comfortable one.

"Would you like to come to Hogsmeade on Wednesday? It'll be good for you all to get out of the castle and I need to run a few errands."

Hermione looked at her teacher and nodded. "That would be lovely. Thank you."

McGonagall placed a reassuring hand on the brunette's shoulder. "My pleasure. It's approaching lunchtime, I think we should start making our way there, don't you?"

— — —

Hermione and Minerva had walked to the Great Hall in silence, but there wasn't really much they needed to talk about anyway, so Hermione was thankful for the quiet company. It made her think of Ron and his constant attempts to get her to cheer up before he left, and she made a mental note to write to him at some point and ask how he was.

Hermione didn't eat much at lunch, especially after her breakfast– which was excessive by her current standards– so her gaze flickered between the double doors and Draco to keep her occupied.

Ever since finding out that Lucius had taken the memories, Hermione started to think that the boy might know something, so she'd decided to keep an eye on him.

 _He might even know about Bellatrix,_ Hermione thought.

Her eyes settled on the doors again as they started to open and she expected Snape to walk in late again like he usually did, but it wasn't Snape. Instead, she watched as the Minister of Magic made his way down the centre of the Great Hall, heading straight towards her. Her palms started to sweat and her heart raced anxiously as she came face to face with Rufus Scrimgeour.

"I trust you know why I'm here, Miss Granger," he addressed her.

"I'm afraid I don't, Sir," Hermione stood to greet him out of respect.

"Shall we take a seat somewhere a little quieter?"

In the end, they resolved to sit at the Slytherin table in the seats closest to the doors, while everyone finished their lunches. He had pulled out a very expensive and official-looking piece of parchment which had turned out to be Dumbledore's will and started to read it to her.

She took her new copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard and thanked the Minister, clutching the book to her chest after she'd admired the beautifully designed cover.

"What about Ron and… Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Mr. Weasley was left Mr. Dumbledore's Deluminator and Mr. Potter was left the Golden Snitch he caught during his first Quiddich game. He was also left the Sword of Gryffindor but, unfortunately, it was stolen– not that it was ever Dumbledore's to give away."

"Stolen?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Do you have any idea by who?"

"No," Rufus' voice was almost bitter, but Hermione didn't give much thought to it.

"What about the Snitch? Can Ron or I have it since Harry isn't…" Hermione trailed off. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, she shoved the image of her best friend's face to the back of her mind. She missed him. She knew he always called her the clever one but without him there to bounce ideas off she felt more stupid than ever. Perhaps Harry was to her what she was to Ron; she didn't know.

"I'm afraid not," the Minister shook his head. "Under the circumstances, the Snitch now belongs to the Ministry."

"Can I see it, please?" Hermione asked.

"Why would you want to?" Scrimgeour enquired sharply.

"Sentiment?" Hermione didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but she wasn't sure what else to say in reply.

Slowly, after a long moment of hesitation and careful consideration, he pulled a leather pouch from his pocket and handed it to her. She opened it to reveal the Snitch, holding it between her thumb and forefinger as its wings fluttered as fast as a hummingbird's.

She believed that Dumbledore was too clever to leave Harry anything for a mere memory but, as she rolled the magical item between her fingertips, she started to doubt the old man for the first time in her life. There didn't seem to be anything, but her thought process was quickly interrupted when Rufus spoke.

"They have flesh memories, you know."

 _Of course,_ Hermione mentally kicked herself for being so stupid. She knew this. _So I won't get anything out of this, then._

The temptation to take the Snitch as a memory of Harry and make a run for it was strong, but Hermione stayed in the chair at the table opposite the Minister, slowly slipping the item back into the pouch before returning it.

He took it back without a word.

"Is that all?" she asked.

He nodded. "Unless, of course, you have any further questions."

Hermione shook her head, her sad eyes starting blankly at the table as Rufus got up to leave. Before he could take his first step, however, Hermione jumped up.

"Sir?" she watched as he turned to face her again, the sigh that followed almost exasperated.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Sorry, I actually do have a question but it's not to do with Dumbledore's will."

Rufus stayed quiet but nodded, a cue for her to carry on.

"The memories in his office, why did you need to confiscate them?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," he shook his head, "the Ministry never confiscated any memories from Albus."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something about Lucius but her words got caught in her throat and she only ended up blinking and standing there with her mouth agape.

"Good day, Miss Granger," and with that, the Minister made his way to Minerva who was waiting for him by the doors.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _Thank you to my beta readers for making all of this possible and my readers for making me want this to be possible :3_

— — —

Hermione's hand found its way into her pocket and she gently caressed the Golden Snitch with her thumb.

When Rufus had left his jacket hanging over a chair in the Great Hall unattended, Hermione had taken it as an open invitation to pilfer the item when he wasn't looking after lunch. He'd been too deep in conversation with Minerva, who Hermione could have sworn saw her take it, to notice her tip-toe around to the chair and slip her hand into the pocket. Either way, her favourite teacher hadn't said a thing.

She noticed McGonagall looking at her as she picked at her dinner in the Great Hall the same evening, but was too lost in her thoughts to smile at the teacher or do anything other than glance back down at her plate.

Theories of how Bellatrix had managed to get inside the castle circled in Hermione's head. Draco was most certainly a suspect after what he'd pulled with the Vanishing Cabinet, although as far as Hermione was aware, the item had been removed under McGonagall's orders.

Regardless, she'd made the decision that it'd be best to keep an eye on the Slytherin from now on.

A part of the brunette told her to tell McGonagall about the Death Eater's appearance, but she knew as soon as someone like Minerva caught wind of the dark witch being in Hogwarts again she would never let the students out of her sight, making Hermione's research more difficult than it already was. She was already struggling to solve the mystery that had been laid out in front of her without a teacher or the Ministry's input.

Once everyone had started filtering their way out of the Great Hall, Hermione abandoned her food and went with them, following Draco. She was far enough behind that he didn't see her, nor did he feel the need to glance behind him.

She was trying to find out if he knew anything, but the blonde seemed to be doing an awfully good job at keeping to himself and acting infuriatingly normal. Confronting him seemed like the best idea, but Hermione had no idea how to go about it.

 _Maybe if I stare at him long enough, that'll be confrontation enough,_ she thought, eyes narrowing as she turned the corner after the boy, but– having apparently fallen too far behind him– he was gone and Hermione was left with nothing but the stone walls and the portraits that adorned them to keep her company.

— — —

Draco looked up from his food only to meet Hermione's gaze for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

First it had been yesterday at dinner, then breakfast today, then in the library, then by the lake and now– when he anxiously glanced up from the letter he was writing– during lunch. The glare he received was unmistakably directed at him and, provocative as it was, he tried to ignore it as he wrote a letter to his mother.

The letter covered his week, what he'd been doing and how school was since everyone had left. He asked how his family was and how the Dark Lord was since Harry had been killed. It was just a, "How is He?" but Draco knew Narcissa would know exactly what he meant.

Draco, like many people at Voldemort's side, believed that the world was better now that Harry was dead. Harry, the one person who could possibly defeat Him, and Dumbledore, the man who could tell him how, were both dead. The Malfoys believed that it was best that way, that now Voldemort would be safe. Any attempts on his life would be in vain because, as far as they are concerned, no one knew how to kill him.

The war, however, wasn't over yet. They were within spitting distance of winning, of the power that came with it, but Voldemort was so busy trying to hunt down Harry's true killer that he wasn't taking it as quickly as he should be. He was blinded by rage and that made him vulnerable; it made all of them vulnerable.

Draco looked up again to find that Hermione had left the hall like the rest of the students and it was now only him, McGonagall and Snape.

The two teachers were talking between themselves quietly. Usually, Draco would leap at the opportunity to eavesdrop, but he wasn't in the mood. Instead, he took his letter and headed for the Slytherin common room where he knew he could write in peace.

As usual, it was empty. He was the only Slytherin left in the school and, honestly, he loved it. If he'd been at home, he knew he would probably have spent his time dodging his mother's affections.

While Narcissa only wanted the best for her son, he found her a little much sometimes, which was why the peace and comfort the fire in the green common room provided was so calming. As he settled somewhere comfortable, he continued to write.

— — —

Hermione walked down the hill to Hagrid's hut. She had decided, after watching Draco disappear into what she suspected was the Slytherin common room again, to pay the giant a visit. Barring meal times, she hadn't seen him since Harry died.

Despite the fact that Bellatrix had burnt the hut down, a few spells and charms later it was as good as new. Apparently, Minerva and Snape had spent hours repairing it together, but the thought of the two teachers working together to do anything was odd for Hermione.

 _Especially since Snape was on_ their _side,_ Hermione thought bitterly as she knocked.

Hagrid opened the door and the familiar musky smell of the shack that Hermione had come to think of as a second home wafted into her face.

"Hello, Hermione," Hagrid smiled at her. "It's great to see you out 'n' about. Professor McGonagall told me that you haven't been out much."

"Hey, Hagrid," Hermione craned her neck to look at him.

The giant invited her inside and she stepped in. As she did, she noticed something rather floral in the air, a smell that she noticed had been lingering for months, and Hermione couldn't help but giggle when she finally realised what it was. After what felt like an eternity of wracking her brain for some sort of answer, she came to the conclusion that it was the remanence of a woman's perfume lingering in the air.

"Hagrid?"

"Yes?"

"Have you been dating?" she asked, unable to help the grin that stretched across her face.

Hagrid blinked. "No, you know me, I like it here alone with Fang."

Hermione shook her head. "I can smell the perfume."

Hagrid was quiet for a moment, tending to a pot of tea, before he sighed and smiled. "You're too clever."

"Tell me about her," Hermione accepted the tea when Hagrid offered her some. "I'm really happy for you."

And she was. Hermione knew that Hagrid was just as heartbroken about losing Harry as she was. The fact that he might have someone special to help him through it didn't get rid of the pain completely but it would've most certainly helped.

Hagrid shook his head. "Another time."

His usual enthusiasm had wilted. As he looked down at the table they were sitting at, Hermione saw this first-hand. The man who was seemingly so bubbly was now quiet, reserved, his bearded face seemingly more gaunt than it was before.

Hermione spent a while there, talking with him about different things, things like the adventure book she'd been reading and how weird it was being in the school when it was so empty. They were both side-stepping the inevitable, the time when one of them brings up Harry and the conversation turns sad.

"Can I ask you something, something about Harry?" Hermione broke the silence that had fallen, feeling bad when she saw Hagrid's small smile fall into a deep frown.

He hesitated, then nodded.

"Do you really think he drowned?"

Hagrid sipped his tea. "I suppose. Don't know what else woulda done it. Why, you don't think it was something else, do you?"

"Perhaps," she said. "I'm not sure yet."

"Maybe," Hagrid put down his mug, placing a giant hand over hers on the table, his eyes welling with tears, "it'd be best to just leave it be. We can't bring him back. Remember him as he was when he was here, don't think about the other stuff."

She nodded, not wanting to give too much about what she knew away.

For a moment, she wondered how Hagrid remembered Harry. She knew that Hagrid had carried him to his Aunt and Uncle's house when he was a baby, and she thought that he might remember him as a bundle of blankets, before everything became so complicated.

"Thanks, Hagrid," she said with a smile, and the giant nodded his head, going back to his tea.

— — —

The corridors were quiet after dinner and Draco was making his way through them towards his dorm. He had his parchment under his arm and his– finally– finished letter to Narcissa in his pocket.

Suddenly, someone from around a corner grabbed his arm and shoved him into a classroom. He tripped as he was shoved inside, parchment flying everywhere as he fell almost face-first into the floor.

When he finally steadied himself, he drew his wand and aimed at his attacker to find Hermione's wand already pointed at him as the brunette kicked the classroom door closed with her foot.

"What are you playing at?!"

"I need you to answer some questions for me," Hermione said, lowering her wand.

"Why?" Draco lowered his wand slightly, too, although he kept it ready enough to use if the brunette tried anything.

"Your father stole a selection of memories from Dumbledore's office after he died. I want to know why," Hermione could feel the tension in the air buzzing. Her and Draco had never got along, mainly due to his prejudice against muggle-borns, among other things.

Now that Hermione– someone who, from his perspective, might as well be below a house elf in the hierarchy– had cornered him and had the audacity to question him, Draco was disgusted.

"Well?" Hermione asked antagonistically when he didn't reply. "Not very bright, are you? Do you even understand what I'm saying? Well then, it appears blood isn't everything."

Apparently having pushed all the right buttons, Hermione got back a very snappy, "Of course, I understand what you're saying! But I don't know why my father would take a memory from Dumbledore's office. It was probably his, did you ever consider that? Or maybe it was private, meaning none of your goddamn business, _mudblood_."

She still wasn't a fan of the derogatory nickname, but she ignored it and raised her wand again when he tried to walk past her. "What about Bellatrix?"

"What about her?"

"I saw her by the lake, on Hogwarts' grounds. How did she get in here, past the wards, can you explain that?" Hermione blocked his exit, standing square in front of him.

In that moment, when she was trying so desperately to find answers, she was more of a force to be reckoned with that she usually was.

Draco blinked. "Bellatrix was in the castle?"

"By the lake," Hermione corrected.

Draco went quiet, something that resembled fear flashing in his eyes, before he said, "I don't know anything. Leave me alone."

"Maybe Veritaserum will loosen your tongue," she smiled bitterly, pulling a vial from her pocket. It wasn't the truth serum she claimed it to be, but he didn't need to know that he was merely looking at a perfect replica.

"Tell me what I want to know," she said slowly, patronisingly, "or I'll make you and then I'll use the opportunity to embarrass you as much as I can. Maybe I'll even make you blurt out the secrets about what really happened on that Astronomy Tower that night Professor Dumbledore died."

Hermione didn't know the boy could be paler than he already was and, watching what little colour there was draining from his cheeks, she couldn't help but feel proud of herself.

Draco eyed the vial suspiciously, despite his chalky complexion, and seemed to be contemplating the possibility that Hermione was tricking him. After an agonising silence, however, it was apparent that he wasn't willing to take the risk.

"What do you want?"

"The memories," the witch began, "what are they about and why did Lucius take them?"

The blonde didn't break eye contact when he replied. "I don't know and I didn't know he took any memories, you'll have to take my word on that."

Hermione didn't want to believe it but, under the circumstances, she didn't have much choice. "Would you be able to get ahold of one of those memories for me? Maybe take one from your-?"

She was cut off by Draco laughing, the sound echoing around the stone walls of the empty classroom.

"Not a chance! Not unless you want my mother or my father to find out that you're snooping through our business. I can assure you that won't end well for you. Someone of your… upbringing," Draco wrinkled his nose, "nosing around in our lives? You'd be lucky to draw another breath if you found yourself at my father's mercy and my mother… let's just say you wouldn't want to draw breath at all if you caught her on a bad day."

Hermione stayed quiet for a moment.

"Why are you interested, anyway? I'd like to say it's not like you and your freaky friends to jump to conclusions but that's all you ever seem to do."

The one thing Draco probably didn't mean to be hurtful hit Hermione harder than any derogatory nickname ever could. The mention of her 'freaky friends' only made her think of Harry, which in turn made her heart skip a beat and a lump rise in her throat.

She opened her mouth to speak but the words got caught somewhere and never made it out.

"Oh," Draco turned quiet. He looked down at his feet awkwardly. "This is about Potter, isn't it?"

Hermione couldn't help but notice the lack of eye contact, the lack of confidence and straight up snobbery in the blonde boy's demeanour. Was that sympathy? Guilt? Maybe even empathy? Whatever the emotion was, the stuck up pure-blood didn't appear to wear it well.

"What about Bellatrix?" Hermione jumped to her next question to save them both the embarrassment. "How did she get inside the grounds? Did you help her?"

"What?" Draco's head snapped up and he went back to being his usual self in a split second. "No, of course not."

"You've done it before," Hermione said.

"That was different," he muttered, then sighed. "I mean, the only thing I can think of, it's not really… I can't tell you."

Hermione waved the fake vial of Veritaserum in front of his face. "Can't or won't?"

"Can't. I mean, I could but," the Slytherin's voice became more panicked, "it's just not my secret to tell."

"Tell me," Hermione's voice was level and firm, surprising considering she was such a mess inside.

Draco didn't say anything, he just looked grimly at his peer.

"Did she cast a spell to get her around the anti-apparition jinx? Did someone let her in? I mean it's not like she's…" Hermione trailed off.

 _…_ _an Animagus,_ she finished in her head.

But Hermione knew that it was entirely possible that Bellatrix was an Animagus. It made perfect sense. While the ability itself wasn't hereditary, only a particularly powerful witch or wizard would be able to learn such a skill. A Black, perhaps? It was in her blood.

The idea was startling, unsettling, that Bellatrix Black could get into Hogwarts at will was enough to send a shiver up Hermione's spine.

"She's an Animagus, isn't she?" the witch slipped the fake truth serum into her pocket and laughed humourlessly at herself, mumbling under her breath, "I can't believe I didn't think of this before."

Draco didn't say a word.

"Is it true?"

He hesitated before nodding. "But if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, she'll find you and she'll kill you, then she'll kill everyone you might have told."

"I'm not scared of her," Hermione laughed internally at the lie.

"Then you're stupid," he said. "Listen, my family had nothing to do with Potter's death. I know how this might look, especially after… Dumbledore… but there is no way a Black or a Malfoy would have been so stupid. Have you ever considered that you might be over-thinking things and seeing what you want to see instead of seeing what it actually is?"

"Why would Bellatrix have been here then?"

"I don't know, I just know my family and I know that anyone who was stupid enough to kill Harry is dead to the Dark Lord. He wanted to kill Harry himself," Draco gestured towards the door. "Am I free to go now?"

Hermione hesitated for a short moment before she nodded.

She watched him leave, staying where she was, slowly processing what had just happened.

It was then that Hermione noticed one piece of parchment left on the floor, a piece that Draco obviously hadn't seen. It was obviously a very expensive type of parchment and it had initials stamped into it on the bottom right hand corner, although they looked more like a signature– the letters "D.M." in a fancy elaborate script.

Hermione knew it was common for richer families to have nice parchment, seals or symbols, but she also knew from what research she'd done before that it could be used as a form of verification. Without a second thought, she smuggled the parchment into her robe and took it back to her dorm with her.

— — —

Come morning, Hermione hadn't managed to catch any sleep at all.

Walking down to breakfast, she sat in her usual seat, listening to the younger students talk about how excited they were to go to Hogsmeade, but Hermione had other things on her mind.

She forced herself to eat as much as she could knowing that this might be her last decent meal, at least for a while. Tapping her foot and drumming her fingertips on the tabletop, she clutched her copy of Beedle the Bard to her chest.

A lot like the Snitch, Hermione believed the book had been left to her for a reason. flicking through it, she'd already found a symbol that had been penciled in. It was a triangle around a line and a circle. Hermione didn't know what to think of it but she knew she'd have plenty of spare time after the trip to Hogsmeade to study it. That is– of course– if everything went the way Hermione planned.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _I'm sorry this chapter is rather short, I do try to make them longer but I like leaving chapters at a good point, so xD_

 _Thank you so much for all your reviews. Hope you're enjoying it so far. Constructive criticisms are welcome :3_

— — —

Hermione was sitting quietly to herself in a booth in The Three Broomsticks, hunched over Dumbledore's copy of _Beedle the Bard_ and enjoying a butter beer that she thought might be her last– at least for a while.

The buzz of the familiar pub was comforting, but not nearly comforting enough. She was still on edge like she had been at breakfast and her hands still shook anxiously as she read one of the tales in the book.

For the third time since sitting down, she flicked to the page of the book where the strange symbol had been drawn in and pulled out the letter she'd tucked in there for safe keeping. It was from Ron.

Hermione had been putting off opening it, but now as she glanced over the letters which were scrawled down in a messy script, she was glad she had. He'd told her he missed her, that Molly had been bugging him about Hermione staying if she wanted to and that he hoped she was okay at Hogwarts on her own.

Hermione found some comfort in the words and clung to it, but it was quickly torn away from her when she read the next paragraph, containing details about Harry's funeral. Hurriedly, she shoved the letter back in the book and closed it, putting it back in her bag with an pale complexion.

She glanced nervously at the time.

McGonagall had told her that she had to be back at their meeting place outside the pub at 3pm sharp to go back to Hogwarts. Besides that, she and Draco were free to do what they wanted, considering they were the oldest two left in the school.

After a long pause, she got up from her seat and slung her bag over her shoulder again, leaving the rest of her butter beer as she headed for the door.

— — —

Diagon Alley was exactly as Hermione had remembered it, but now– walking past all the shops that she'd visited every school year for supplies– she couldn't stop the wave of doubt that washed over her and for the first time she wondered whether or not she was doing the right thing.

 _What exactly is_ right _in this situation, Hermione?_ she thought, walking faster.

On her way to Gringotts, she passed a window that displayed a newspaper, the headline reading, _Fraud Returns With Memories: Fact or Faked?_ Hermione saw the photo of Gilderoy Lockhart next to it and couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous the man was, unable to stop herself from stepping inside the shop and picking up the paper.

It claimed that Lockhart had recovered with memories of "Harry Potter and his dumb friends" casting Obliviate on him to avoid detention. It quoted Lockhart a lot, but he mainly just droned on and on about how he would have defended himself if he had thought for a moment that the young boy had it in him.

 _Idiot,_ Hermione dumped the paper back on the stand and found herself getting distracted by other things in the shop, but quickly got back on track when she glanced outside the window and saw the entrance to Gringotts, remembering why she came in the first place.

The bank always put Hermione on edge. Perhaps it was the goblins who all looked up simultaneously from their work when they heard the door open or the eerie quiet that they all sat in day to day, Hermione didn't know, but she was sure she wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible.

Without further ado, she walked down the aisle between all the goblin's workplaces to the front desk. The goblin there didn't look up from his paperwork to greet her, he didn't even acknowledge her existence at all. It was only when she pointedly placed her vault key on the desk in front of him that his eyes slowly lifted to meet hers.

"Yes?" he sounded so disinterested, so bored. Hermione ignored it.

"I'd like to access my vault, please," she said. "My name's Hermione Granger."

"Of course, Miss Granger," the goblin sighed tiresomely.

He took the key and got down from the desk, walking without checking if she was following.

"What will you be taking from your vault today?" he asked, still walking down a corridor and not bothering to look back at her.

"Everything," Hermione said.

The goblin chuckled, suddenly seeming interested in her. "Everything?"

"Yes."

"And why would you possibly want to be doing that, Miss Granger?" there was something rather antagonistic about his tone.

"Is that really any of your business?"

"No," replied the goblin, "but that doesn't mean I don't want to know."

He stopped at a vault, the one Hermione recognised as her own, and used her key to open to door for her. When he stepped aside to let her look, she stopped in her tracks and her jaw went slack at the sight before her.

The gold piled high, higher than she'd ever expected it to in her lifetime. Hermione thought for a moment that he'd got the wrong vault but it had been her key to open it and the goblin, as arrogant as he was, wasn't stupid.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the gold as she stuttered out a barely audible, "Where did this come from?"

"I believe Mr. Harry Potter transferred you some of this a couple of weeks ago," the goblin said.

"Did he move money into anyone else's vaults? How much?" Hermione fired out the questions quickly as they came to mind, earning an odd look from the small creature before her.

"Mr. Potter moved a lot of money around before he died," the goblin replied cryptically.

Hermione frowned, this new information making further theories of his death bloom.

"You won't get far, you know," the goblin smirked.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, shocked at the goblin's comment. Her eyes stayed on the gold, though. She had more than enough here now, the problem would have been carrying it all. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"But you do," he faced Hermione front-on, "so why don't you tell me, what's got someone like you running away?"

Hermione should have known that withdrawing all the money from her vault would have raised suspicion. She kicked herself for being so careless, but unfortunately she was becoming very reckless recently and she knew the chances of her slipping up again were high.

 _Unless you just calm down,_ she thought, _take a breath and think instead of jumping ahead._

"I just need to get away," she lied. "Harry was my best friend."

The goblin smiled knowingly, showing a line of pointy teeth when Hermione looked down at him. "How, if you don't mind me asking, do you think Mr. Potter died?"

"He drowned," Hermione said, growing tired of the goblin's interrogation tactics, "not that it's any of your business."

"Mhm," the goblin chuckled and something about it made a shiver run up Hermione's spine, "that's what they always say."

"What do you mean by that?"

Silence.

"Are you saying you know who did this?"

A laugh, the same dark chuckle as before, made Hermione immediately regret confronting the goblin in the first place.

"So you know it was murder, what a smart girl."

"So what if I do?" Hermione threw her hands up in the air and let them flop back down to her sides. "It doesn't matter, I just want my money, then I'll be going."

"You'd do well to show me some respect, Miss Granger," the goblin turned away, admiring her gold from where he stood at the vault entrance.

"Why would that be?" the girl huffed.

"Because I can help you."

Hermione glanced down at him curiously.

"There are so many people who can't be seen here and yet they still have vaults that they regularly withdraw from. Have you ever considered how those people– like Madame Lestrange, for example– manage that? Surely not by just walking in for everyone to see them, I assume."

She blinked, a wave of realisation washing over her. "You help them get in."

"Of course."

"And what?" Hermione shrugged lightly. "You can help me, too? At what price?"

Hermione couldn't help being suspicious of the goblin, as any normal person would be. But this was an opportunity, something that would not only help her but ensure that she could hide things in her vault if she needed to, things like Horcruxes.

"No price at all. I suspect you are going to do your best to catch Mr. Potter's killer," he started filling one of several large leather pouches up with gold, his voice sounding so even and honest that it only made the brunette more suspicious, "and that you will bring an end to such injustice is enough."

— — —

Arriving at Borgin and Burke's brought a wave of uncertainty over Hermione. Gringotts was okay, after all she was in an area of the wizarding world that she was familiar with, but the dark and shady back alley shop was unfamiliar territory.

Glancing left and right to be sure she hadn't been followed to the door, she finally stepped inside, a bell announcing her arrival as she found herself alone in the shop with its eerie interior.

Skulls and bones, potions and herbs, among other items all bottled or wrapped made Hermione shiver. Just as Hermione's nerves slowly started to settle, she heard footsteps from the other end of the room.

Turning, she saw Borgin step into view.

"Not the usual customer," he mused.

"It's not exactly like I frequent places like this, either," Hermione's voice came out a little more uneven than she would have liked it to be.

There was an odd and uneasy silence as Borgin looked her up and down, eyes narrowed and aged lips pressed into a thin line.

"What do you want?"

Hermione hesitated, thinking about turning around and running from the godawful shop as fast as her legs could carry her, but she just squared her shoulders and said, "I need to have something delivered for me."

"We don't do shop deliveries."

"Not something from your shop. I need an owl to deliver a letter for me," she explained.

"My owl isn't for hire," he snapped.

"I have gold."

"Probably not enough," was Borgin's tiresome reply.

"Are you sure about that?" she dug around in her bag and pulled out one of the pouches of gold, holding it out to him.

He eyed it suspiciously through slitted lids. "What're you sending?"

"None of your business."

"Who are you sending it to?"

"None of your business, either," Hermione said impatiently. "Do you want the gold or not?"

Borgin looked between Hermione and the gold with uncertainty for a long moment before he stepped forward and snatched the pouch, stashing it away in his pocket.

"Stay here," he ordered and before Hermione could ask any questions, he was gone.

She waited as she'd been told to, rocking back nervously on her heels as she did. Her eyes wandered to the displays again and she shivered at the jar of eyeballs that were on the shelf.

She heard Borgin's footsteps again soon after and when he appeared this time, he had an owl on his arm. Its brown feathers were battered and unkempt but somehow its gaze still unsettled Hermione when it finally locked eyes on her like a predator on its prey.

"Whatever you're sending, to whoever, she'll get it there," Borgin held his arm out.

Hermione hesitantly held her's out, too, and after it's master cooed at it, the bird happily hopped onto Hermione's arm and proceeded to dig its talons uncomfortably into the girl to find a happy purchase.

"Send her out the door," Borgin busied himself with something on the shelves, sparing only a single glance back in Hermione's direction before she turned to the door.

Hermione walked to the door with the bird, digging the letter she had from her pocket. It was addressed to Bellatrix Lestrange.

Inside, Hermione had written in a script as alike to Draco's that she could muster a time and place for the dark witch to meet. It wasn't signed, but Hermione didn't think she had to sign it properly. After all, she'd used Draco's parchment, the one which had his initials stamped into the corner.

With a shaky breath, Hermione gave the bird the letter and whispered, "Take it to Bellatrix Lestrange."

She then held her arm out and opened the door, letting the bird take flight with the letter in its beak. She hoped that Borgin was right, that the letter would get there safely.

As she watched the bird fly off with the letter, she almost caught herself regretting it. Bellatrix was dangerous, but Hermione couldn't stand not knowing what she'd been doing at the lake. She needed to know if it had been her to kill Harry or if she was just overthinking things like Draco had said.

When she turned around, Borgin was gone. She looked around, sure he would've been there somewhere, but the man was nowhere to be found. Cautiously, as if it might be a trap, she left the shop and allowed a fair distance between her and the creepy alley before she apparated back to Hogsmeade.

— — —

Watching Minerva look around the designated meeting place for Hermione made her feel oddly guilty. The worried look on the teacher's face was almost enough for her to step out of the alley that she was hiding in and walk up to where she was standing outside the Three Broomsticks, but she couldn't do that.

She had to be careful now, she had to make sure people couldn't find her.

Looking down at her bag which was slung over her shoulder and her wand which she gripped tightly in her hand, a tear slipped down her cheek and landed on the back of her hand.

 _Get it together,_ she thought.

She glanced at McGonagall again, a lump growing in her throat. Guilt pulled her forward and she took a step only to retrace it backwards.

Indecision gnawed at her insides, but the decision had already been made and Hermione had already disappeared, leaving the crackle of her apparating echoing behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** _By the way, if any of my writing is OOC, let me know and I'll change it, okay? :) Thank you for reading! Please review if you have the time, they make my day ^^_

— — —

The cold and empty interior of 4 Privet Drive was both comforting and unnerving. Hermione found herself stuck in the doorway with her hand on the open door, unable to step inside.

Of course, it was empty as far as she could tell. She remembered Harry saying Dumbledore had found a way to get the Dursleys to leave, to go somewhere safe until the war ended. She wondered whether they were due back anytime soon now that Harry was dead, or if they even cared that he was dead at all.

Despite the fact that they would never know she was there, it felt odd when she finally entered the house and closed the door behind her.

Hermione walked into the sitting room which was without its furniture, just as she remembered it from when she had taken Polyjuice potion in the exact spot she was standing in right now. The memory of Harry's face when he'd seen everyone turning into him made Hermione laugh quietly to herself.

Walking into the kitchen, a room she hadn't seen before, she decided that she was going to set up camp in the small living area attached to it. It seemed to be the warmer of the two areas, perhaps because the sun shone through the conservatory's windows and doors during the day.

Out of curiosity, Hermione made her way upstairs. She soon found what she believed to be Harry's Aunt and Uncle's room and then the room which she thought would have been his cousin's room. Then she came to a closed door, the only door which had been closed out of all of them.

Slowly, she opened it to find Harry's room untouched.

His bed was against the wall, unmade as it had probably remained for months. There were photos of the three of them– her, Harry and Ron– adorning his dresser and a dancing picture of Harry's parents on his nightstand.

They were still smiling, dancing, happy, and it seemed to make the entire thing worse. Hermione saw a pair of Harry's jeans that had been thrown on the floor and a sock lying lonesomely next to it, the other one hanging off the edge of his bed.

The room looked so _lived in_ , so _full_ – it even still smelt like him– but as soon as Hermione slumped down onto Harry's bed, a cloud of dust enveloped her. It was the one thing, the one giveaway that the room had remained untouched for what felt like an age.

For a moment, Hermione debated setting up camp in Harry's room instead, curling into a ball under Harry's duvet. It seemed like such a good idea, but she knew it would only make her sad and in a way it felt wrong to disturb Harry's room like that. It was almost like disturbing a grave.

With a shaky breath, Hermione pushed herself up and out of the bed, feeling the cold of the unheated house bite at her as soon as she left the soft embrace. Without a second look, she left, closing the door behind her with shaking hands.

If she was correct, and she fervently hoped she was, the wards that had been put on the house to protect Harry from Voldemort and his Death Eaters should still be present. She needed them to be. After all, going after Bellatrix was risky and she needed somewhere to go, somewhere to hide if the dark witch decided she wanted to kill Hermione next.

Sitting downstairs in the kitchen living area, Hermione dug a sleeping bag out of her charmed bag and some cans of muggle food. She was exceedingly aware of the fact that she was underage and therefore still had the Trace on her wand. Any magic she did she needed to do in such a way to lead the Ministry away from her, should they come looking for her.

It was for that exact reason that she hadn't apparated directly to Privet Drive, instead dropping herself a few hours bus journey away. She had muggle money left on her which she had used for the fare and still had some left for other journeys or food.

She crawled into the comfortable bag in her jeans and hoodie, feeling colder at first with the cool fabric against her, but it quickly warmed to her until she was comfortable in the corner of the deserted house, looking out at the sky which was still lit up by the setting sun.

Knowing better than trying to challenge herself to sleep at such an early hour, Hermione pulled out her copy of _Beedle the Bard_ and started to read.

— — —

Muggle London was busy, but the back alley Hermione had chosen was eerily quiet.

Walls towered high, making the narrow space seem smaller, the thin fog that had settled over the city making Hermione shiver. The back entrance to an old pub that had been cornered off with crime scene tape only seemed to add to the all-round creepiness of the alley and Hermione found herself wishing she'd chosen another meeting place.

This, however, was neutral ground. Muggle territory wasn't known to be Bellatrix's territory and this was a place that Hermione had no particular ties to. Knowing she couldn't meet the older woman in a place that was familiar to her without the risk of someone finding or seeing her, Hermione had plucked for somewhere she thought Bellatrix would feel just as uncomfortable in.

As she rounded the corner, to her surprise, the dark witch was already there. Her wand was in her hand, her fingers wrapped loosely around it, as she leaned against the red brick wall and smirked at Hermione as she approached her. To Hermione's disliking, she looked right at home.

"Not my first guess, I'll have to admit."

"I'm sorry?" Hermione frowned at the dark witch, fingers wrapped tensely around her wand.

"Draco would never have sent Borgin's bird."

"How'd you know it was Borgin's?"

"What? That old thing?" Bellatrix laughed, pressing her hand holding her wand to her abdomen as she let out the short cackle. "It's a bit difficult to miss. The poor thing looks like it's been dunked in a cauldron of Living Death gone wrong."

Hermione was silent.

Killing Bellatrix was something that she knew a lot of people would give their right arm for and now she had the chance, but she wanted to know if the Death Eater was responsible for Harry's death first. She felt the anger grow stronger as she thought of Neville's parents and Sirius, amongst others who had suffered at Bellatrix's hands.

"What do you want?" Bellatrix sounded so bored, as if this situation had already happened to her a thousand times.

"I had some questions," Hermione said warily.

"And I'm supposed to answer to you?" Bella's voice was laced with disgust, her gaze belittling.

"Yes."

"Make me."

Hermione gritted her teeth as Bellatrix's lips stretched into the same smirk she'd worn when Hermione had arrived.

Choosing not to rise to it, Hermione carried on like she hadn't said anything at all. "I saw you by the Great Lake the other night. I want to know how you got into Hogwarts."

Hermione's dismissiveness seemed to vex the Death Eater further and she glanced down at Bella's wand hand to find the once relaxed fingers balled into a tight fist around the wood.

Hermione carried on when Bellatrix said nothing. "Why the Great Lake? Why where Harry was found?"

"Coincidence?" Bellatrix offered with a small shrug as she pushed off from the wall, posture now more relaxed– but the tight fist remained around her wand, knuckles as white as the top of a snowy mountain.

Hermione couldn't contain the exasperated sigh that escaped her lips. The laugh that echoed from the dark witch was confirmation enough that she was winding her up on purpose.

"Are you going to answer me or not?" Hermione was growing impatient and part of her wanted to tap her foot but, considering who she was standing in front of, she didn't believe it would get her very far.

"Why don't you tell me why you're so hellbent on knowing?" Bellatrix mused.

"That's none of your business," Hermione knew it was a brave thing to say to Bellatrix and she coiled internally as she waited for the Death Eater to lose control and snap at her, to become the woman she was in the Department of Mysteries.

But she didn't.

"It's amusing. You think you're going to get what you came for," Bella scoffed, "and for the brightest witch of your age, you're being incredibly stupid. You came here with nothing to hold against me and no means to get the answers you want out of me, barring boring me to death."

"I know you're an unregistered Animagus," Hermione said, voice strong and unwavering.

"Do you now?" Bella chuckled, "and you have proof of this, of course."

"It's the only way you could get inside the castle grounds without help."

"And your proof of me being inside the castle at all?" the smug smile on Bella's face widened.

Hermione was silent.

"As I thought."

The stance the witch adopted should have given it away but it was only when she waved her wand that Hermione saw it coming, the spell building on Bellatrix's tongue before she cast it.

"Protego!" Hermione reflected the spell without even realising what the dark witch had cast and she looked into Bellatrix's eyes as she found herself getting sucked into a world that wasn't her own.

It took her a minute to realise that she was in Bellatrix's head and that the spell that had bounced off of her Protego was Legilimens. Unable to focus at first, Hermione found that everything was very blurry. But as she calmed down, she started to make sense of the things around her.

They were flickers of thoughts that Hermione could only see for a second, as if they were being torn quickly away from her. It was only then that the brunette realised Bellatrix was trying to block her out.

Hermione didn't need to be told twice, she was happy to leave. A lot of Bellatrix's thoughts didn't make sense and Hermione didn't want to be enlightened, but before she could retract from the dark witch's mind, she saw something that chilled her to her very core.

It was a man, or rather what was left of his lifeless corpse. His eyes and lips were black, and water dribbled endlessly from his mouth.

"Get out!" Bellatrix screamed, shoving her away.

Hermione fell backwards, stumbling before she gained her balance again. Shock left her speechless as she panted for her next breath.

Before she could return to reality, the back of a hand connected with the side of her face, making her fall to the floor as the pain throbbed through muscle to bone.

"How dare you!" Bellatrix spat, circling the fallen girl.

Hermione finally managed to focus her blurry vision as Bellatrix pointed her wand at the brunette's head.

The sound of footsteps caught both of their attention.

Something about them was familiar and it was only when they spied Snape rounding the corner that they both suddenly ducked and crouched behind one of the blue industrial bins in the alley.

"What is he doing here?" Bellatrix hissed.

"I'm underage," Hermione whispered, getting down on her hands and knees to peer under the small gap between the bin and the cobbled stone.

She could see his shoes as he paced, obviously looking around. Hermione was intently aware of the Death Eater who was standing dangerously close to her, so close she could hear the dark witch's quiet and even breathing, but she didn't dare make a sound or move from her position.

She didn't understand why Bellatrix was hiding. After all, Snape was with Voldemort.

It dawned on Hermione as she watched the Slytherin House Master's shoes walk away again that if she was correct and Bellatrix had killed Harry, it was most likely that Voldemort was after her for taking away his glory.

As she stood, she met Bellatrix's gaze. It was cold and hard, intense, and Hermione opened her mouth to ask her about her new hypothesis but the dark witch had her in a headlock with her hand over Hermione's mouth before any noise could come out.

Hermione struggled for a moment but soon found that there was no weakness in the grip. Shaking with fear, she resigned herself to the possibility that she might not live past this encounter.

"Shh," she pressed her lips right next to Hermione's ear, voice so quiet that you wouldn't have been able to hear if you were any further away, "he's still here."

Hermione was sure he'd left, but the faint crackling sound confirmed that Bellatrix had been right. Slowly, a second later, Hermione was released.

She took her chance, apparating as soon as she could wrap her fingers around her wand which she'd stashed away in her pocket, the sound of Bellatrix's hiss of protest echoing after her.

— — —

Hermione stood in the shadows, unseen as she watched Harry's funeral take place in Godric's Hollow cemetery.

Ron was there with all the Weasleys. Minerva was there, too. Even Snape stood next to her. The Dursleys were nowhere to be seen, but that didn't surprise Hermione. She found comfort in the fact that Harry was buried next to his parents and she felt the tears slip silently down her cheeks as they lowered his coffin into the ground.

Over the past few weeks, Hermione hadn't done much except look into the symbol that was drawn into her book. She hadn't found anything, despite extensive research in various wizarding libraries, one of which she had to use Polyjuice potion to get into. As Hermione turned her attention back to the ceremony, she couldn't help but feel a slight pang of guilt for the librarian who she'd left to wake up in the broom closet after she knocked her out.

She had to stay hidden. She was still technically missing, since she disappeared from Hogsmeade, with only the Trace on her giving her friends and family any indication that she is alive.

She was still having to be perplexingly careful about using magic. Apparating always landed her hours from her true destination to be safe and the Dursley house was so cold without heat charms that what little sleep she did get she ended up waking from because she was shivering so much.

She hadn't realised how much she relied on magic until now.

The ceremony came to an end and everyone paid their respects before branching off one by one, leaving Ron behind on his own, standing over his best friend's grave.

"You know, I thought I could do this," his voice was thick with sadness from what Hermione could hear, which wasn't much at the distance she was at. "I knew I had Hermione and I knew we'd be able to move on. But she's gone, too. I don't know where, no one does. Minerva and Snape have been pushing the Ministry but they can't find her, either. We're worried about her– _I'm_ worried about her."

For the first time since leaving, Hermione felt guilty. As she watched the redhead finish his speech and walk over to where his family waited by the gate to the road, she snivelled and wiped the tears from her eyes.

Somewhere behind her, a twig snapped under a boot, but she was so wrapped up in crying that she didn't hear it. It was only when she heard the voice that sent chills down her spine that her eyes widened and she pivoted to meet Bellatrix's gaze.

She turned to leave again, but Bellatrix saw it coming this time and grabbed Hermione's arm, holding her firmly in place. She struggled but Bellatrix was surprisingly strong for such a small person. Hermione couldn't even apparate without taking Bellatrix with her, which she assumed was the dark witch's aim.

She looked up from the hand on her arm and glared and the Death Eater instead, jaw set and hands in fists. She didn't have the patience nor the energy to deal with Bellatrix's shenanigans today, especially after Harry's funeral, but instead of threatening her, Hermione was surprised to hear Bellatrix's words come out softer and calmer than she had ever heard them before.

"Listen to what I have to say and I'll let you go."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** _Sorry again for giving you guys shorter chapters than usual. Promise I'll make up for it later on with others :P_

 _Thank you to DarkSnow3 and NotesFromTheChamber for beta reading!_

— — —

"I am not interested in anything you have to say," Hermione spat in outrage. "You killed my best friend and I _will_ find proof. That or I'll find a way to hand you over to Voldemort."

Everyone had left the cemetery since the funeral, so it was just the two of them in the shadow of a tree, their voices still hushed so they didn't alert any passers by.

Bellatrix's eyes stayed on Hermione's, but her face fell and worried lines creased her features, making her seem older than she was. "I didn't do it."

"I don't believe you."

"You wouldn't," Bellatrix said quietly and there was reluctance in her voice as she continued, "but I'm asking nicely for you to listen to me."

This was most unlike Bellatrix. The older witch, from what Hermione knew and had experienced, was one to bully people into getting what she wanted. The desperation that shone in her eyes was alarming, but it made Hermione curious.

Despite being ready to hex the dark witch into oblivion, Hermione nodded her head for Bellatrix to go on.

"I want to find Potter's killer just as much as you do. Everyone thinks I did it, they think that I killed someone who wasn't mine to kill. That right was reserved for the Dark Lord," Bellatrix's voice turned to a hiss towards the end, the usual deranged look in her eyes returning for a split second before she seemed to check herself and blink it away.

"And why does any of this matter to me?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms when Bellatrix finally let go of her arm, the older woman obviously confident enough that Hermione would stay where she was now.

"Because I think I can help you."

Hermione's hands fell limply down by her sides and her jaw went slack. "You… what?"

"I think we can help each other," Bellatrix corrected. "I have extensive knowledge about the Dark Lord and about the certain death Potter was sentenced to, as you have seen for yourself. And you, muddy, have knowledge of Potter and who he might have pissed off over the years." There was a disgusted undertone in Bellatrix's voice as she finished and pressed her lips into a thin line.

"I am not working with you!" If Hermione wasn't outraged before, she definitely was now. "You are disgusting, a murderer! Whether you killed Harry or not, you deserve to rot in Azkaban for the remainder of your pathetic life."

Bellatrix's lip curled viciously, so animalistic, and she spat back at the brunette, "Watch your mouth, mudblood."

Hermione only glared at her, seething. Working with Bellatrix was a terrible idea, even if she would be able to help. Hermione believed herself to be perfectly capable of finding Harry's killer on her own, thank you very much. She wasn't even entirely sure she wasn't standing in front of the killer right now.

Either way, whether Bellatrix had been the one to kill Harry or not, that didn't change the fact that the Death Eater was likely all talk– or so Hermione thought.

"Do you even know what killed him?" Bellatrix laughed.

"Do you?" Hermione shot back.

"I do," Bellatrix nodded and Hermione scowled at her again. "At the end of the day, all I want to do is clear my name. I want my life back and I will die before I go back to that disgusting horror of a prison."

Something in Bellatrix's eyes made Hermione shiver– was it fear?– and she watched as the dark witch seemed to drift away into her own head, into her own memories, before snapping back to reality with a grave paleness to her complexion.

"I can't do that alone, but there are some things you can't do alone, either."

"Like what?" Hermione gritted her teeth.

Bellatrix shrugged. "Magic? I'm also a master interrogator. Men usually only have to see my face before they'll start to splutter and cry, and then they'll tell you everything you need to know."

The smirk on Bellatrix's face disgusted Hermione, but she couldn't deny how much easier it would be if someone could use magic for her…

"Absolutely not," Hermione said firmly, "and you won't change my mind."

Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow. "Stubborn. Is that a Gryffindor thing?"

"It's a self-preservation thing. I don't trust you and I can name hundreds of people who wouldn't trust you, either," and with that, Hermione turned to leave, stepping far enough away from the witch so she could apparate without Bellatrix grabbing her.

— — —

Muggle supermarkets reminded Hermione of her childhood. She missed her parents a lot these days, especially during the long cold nights she spent at Privet Drive. In fact, she'd missed all types of interaction with human beings– there hadn't been much over the past week since Bellatrix had confronted her in Godric's Hollow– except for the multiple times the dark witch had randomly popped up out of nowhere and greeted her with an impatient, "Have you changed your mind yet?"

She was like a spoilt child. The more you said no to Bellatrix, the more she insisted you do as she asked. What was stunning Hermione was how she was even finding her! Hermione was careful never to frequent the same fast food place or shop twice, she even went as far as to never visit the same library twice, but Bellatrix still always seemed to know where she was.

Walking through the canned foods isle, Hermione dropped some into her basket and headed for the tills. The woman serving there didn't make conversation beyond a hello and the total price of her shopping, to which Hermione handed her the cash in reply.

Walking out of the supermarket, Hermione tucked herself into a small alley so that she could put her shopping into her charmed bag. As she looked down at the object, she watched two polished leather heeled boots come into view and she groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation only to see Bellatrix smirking at her.

"You know, you wouldn't need to eat… that… if you had my help," she eyed the cans of food with a confused look. "Or you'd at least be able to heat one up with my magic. Where are you staying anyway, muddy?"

"Like I'd tell you," Hermione avoided the witch's eyes, shoving the food into her bag angrily before walking off.

"Have you changed your mind yet?" Bellatrix followed her down the street in her robes, gaining odd looks from passers by.

It made Hermione nervous. She was good at blending in in the muggle world, but the further she walked with Bellatrix in tow the more she felt like an antibiotic in the middle of all the bacteria in a petri dish. The longer she stayed there, the bigger the distance all the muggles decided to leave between them.

"No," Hermione said for what felt like the billionth time.

"That's unfortunate," Bellatrix sang as Hermione dipped into an alleyway that was out of the way of prying eyes.

"My apologies," Hermione said sourly.

"I'll consider accepting if you join me."

Hermione couldn't tell whether Bellatrix was being serious or whether she was trying to be annoying, so she ignored her and brought out her wand.

"Where to next?" Bellatrix asked with fake enthusiasm.

"I am going home. Alone. Without you," Hermione spared one final look in the dark witch's direction before she apparated.

— — —

That night, when Hermione finally got back inside the Dursleys house, she had merely minutes of quiet before she noticed a tapping noise against the window.

At first thinking she was imagining things, Hermione ignored it, but it soon became apparent that the tapping noise was very much real. She looked out of the window to see Bellatrix standing outside, presumably before the wards on the house began, throwing tiny pieces of gravel from the road at the window with perfect aim.

Hermione opened it, being greeted with a tiny stone in the middle of her forehead.

"How did you- ow! Did you follow me?"

Bellatrix stopped throwing stones for a moment, still holding an arsenal of them in the palm of her left hand. "Perhaps."

Another small stone went flying past Hermione's head into the house.

"If you're going to serenade me now, you might as well get it over with."

This time a handful of gravel hit her all at once and she flinched away from it, placing a hand on her now sore cheek.

"Go away, Bellatrix," Hermione sighed, recovering from the assault.

"Don't you like my company?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Bella taunted, "you enjoy our meetings."

"I really don't!" Hermione laughed humourlessly.

"You're no fun," Bellatrix pouted mockingly, her eyes gleaming under the lamplight, before she gestured for Hermione to come outside. "Come now, muddy. Come outside with me."

For a moment, Hermione actually considered Bellatrix's offer, but finally common sense kicked in and she shook her head.

"Go away. I can't make this clearer. I don't want your help, I don't need your help. Leave me alone," Hermione closed the window with questionable force, going back to her sleeping bag and tucking herself inside of it, glad it was still warm.

Bellatrix's nerve was infuriating. She always assumed Hermione needed her help, that she was incapable without her. It made Hermione's blood boil! She didn't believe there was anything Bellatrix could do that she couldn't and the fact that Bella kept implying it…

Attempting to shove the thoughts aside, Hermione tried to get some sleep, but she couldn't even keep her eyes closed. Anger and frustration fuelled her, and it kept her awake, like a strong coffee or one of those caffeinated muggle energy drinks that Hermione had never understood the point of.

And so it was, that night, she didn't stay at Privet Drive. Instead, she spent her time travelling. She'd already found out where Lockhart lived before Harry's funeral, but had been hesitant to question the wizard.

Honestly, she didn't think it was him. He was a coward, a fraud, but he was smart enough to steal other witches and wizard's stories which meant that he was most probably smart enough to know that killing Harry Potter would not bode well for him– especially with what's hanging over him now.

Regardless, Hermione believed everyone was guilty until proven innocent, so when she finally reached Lockhart's small house at midday, she knocked on the door with conviction.

When he answered, he immediately tried to slam the door in her face, but she quickly shoved her shoe between the door and its frame, shaking her head.

"Let me in."

"Go away," he said in a voice Hermione guessed he thought was intimidating. It was not.

Hermione drew her wand and aimed it at him. "Let. Me. In."

After a long moment of consideration, Gilderoy slowly opened his door to reveal a plainly decorated hallway.

The walls were a dark cream, the carpets merely a lighter shade and no pictures hung on the walls, although there were nails there where they used to hang. The place was spotless and, as she was lead through to the living room by her old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, she felt sorry for him.

Gilderoy sat in the one armchair that was positioned in the middle of the room on a rug, next to a small table that housed newspapers. There was nothing else, no other furniture. The setting was quite depressing.

"What do you want?" he asked begrudgingly.

"I came to ask about Harry," Hermione said.

He laughed derisively, clapping his hands down onto his thighs. "Great."

 _Not really,_ Hermione thought bitterly. She didn't want to be there anymore than he wanted her there. The whole situation was ridiculous to her. She'd never had to truly interrogate anyone before and she didn't particularly want to start now.

However, it wasn't about what she wanted. It was about Harry. So, for the umpteenth time, she reminded herself that this was bigger than her and continued.

"Where were you between the days he was missing? I presume you have read the papers?"

He shrugged. "I might have missed it."

"Being smart will get you nowhere," she tilted her chin up in an effort to look taller, more intimidating, "so I'd think good and hard about your answer."

He appeared to be easier than Hermione suspected and, after another long pause, plucked for, "I was here. I don't really leave."

"Anyone with you?"

"Of course not."

Hermione didn't like that. Then again, she didn't like him. She didn't harbour much respect for him after what he'd done– or what he might've done.

"And how do you feel now he's gone? I hear you hated him quite a bit."

"The little sod deserved it," he spat.

"You didn't kill him to get revenge?"

"Of course not!" Lockhart snapped.

"Tell me, why am I supposed to believe you?" Hermione asked, wand still pointed at the man as he sat in his armchair, Hermione standing intimidatingly over him.

"Because I told the other psycho the same thing," he glared up at her.

"Who?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Me," a familiar raspy voice came from behind her and Gilderoy suddenly looked to the floor, starting to shake.

Hermione turned to see Bellatrix, dressed in her usual black robe and boots, standing next to her with her hands on her hips. She looked down at Lockhart with a grim smile.

"He's innocent. Trust me, he would have said so by now if he wasn't."

"What did you do?" Hermione asked. "And how on Earth did you know to question him?"

"Because I used my initiative," she looked disgustedly upon Hermione then turned her gaze back to Lockhart, "and I questioned him, a lot like you are now."

"You're evil," Gilderoy hissed quietly, still avoiding Bellatrix's eyes, still shaking like a leaf.

The Death Eater laughed to herself, waving her wand around aimlessly towards him, making him shake even more. "The Cruciatus Curse does some amazing things."

"You tortured him?" Hermione felt sick as she looked at Bellatrix.

"I did what I needed to do to be sure I would get an honest answer," Bellatrix replied.

"Ever heard of Veritaserum?"

"Ever heard of fun?"

"You enjoyed it?" Hermione asked, then continued to answer herself. "Of course you did."

There was a silence.

"Have you changed your mind yet?"

Bellatrix's familiar words rang in Hermione's ears as she looked back down at Gilderoy's shaking form in the armchair. The man looked as if he would answer any question, do anything, if it meant being spared from the Unforgivable Curse again.

Hermione didn't approve of Bellatrix's methods, but she couldn't deny their effectivity.

For the first time since seeing Bellatrix at Harry's funeral, Hermione genuinely considered the witch's offer. She needed somewhere warm to sleep, some proper food. She could feel herself growing ill and was sure she looked far from well. And she knew Bellatrix had money, another thing she could use. Whether that was wizarding money or muggle money was irrelevant at this point.

The long pause made Bellatrix raise her eyebrows, eyes sparkling with the idea that her persistence has finally paid off, and Hermione looked to her with a conflicted gaze.

"Well, muddy? I don't have all day."

Hermione turned to face Bellatrix front-on, hands on her hips to almost match the other witch's stance. "I have some conditions."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** _To make up for the shorter chapters before, here's a longer one packed full of Bella and Hermione getting used to one another xD have fun, hope I didn't butcher the characters lol._

 _Also, thank the gods for beta readers and reviews. Love you all (_ _especially NotesFromTheChamber and DarkSnow3) ;) xox_

— — —

It came as a surprise when Bellatrix had pulled out two separate vials of Polyjuice potion, handing one to Hermione and smirking at her suspicious expression.

"Come now, muddy," the dark witch had laughed, downing her own potion, "why would I want to poison you now? If I'd wanted you dead you would be dead."

Hermione had resigned herself to the the fact that Bellatrix was probably right and she'd quickly drank the disgusting potion, watching Bellatrix's face mould into a different shape, her hair slowly turning a different colour.

Now, sitting across from the unfamiliar-looking woman, Hermione realised just how good an idea it had been. After all, the happy drinkers who resided in the Hog's Head had no idea who they were and some simple charms made short work of making sure they had no idea about what they were saying, either.

"You had some conditions," Bellatrix had prompted.

Hermione's eyes flickered up from the tabletop, meeting the dark brown eyes of the woman before her. Bellatrix– anyone would have to admit– was a good looking woman, and whoever's form it was across from her, Hermione decided, had to come in a close second if not level. Straight red hair tumbled around her face and her new slim features were captivating in the least. She was also taller than Hermione now.

The Gryffindor didn't know what she looked like, she'd only caught a glimpse of her bright blonde hair in the window's reflection and in her peripherals. She was shorter than she usually was, that much she knew, but thankfully her clothes still fit unlike Bellatrix who had to stomp around angrily in a too small robe.

"I did," Hermione nodded.

"Care to enlighten me?" despite being in a different body, Bellatrix's smirk remained the same.

"I don't trust you," Hermione said bluntly.

"Congratulations, you're officially the last to know."

"Shut up and listen to me."

Bellatrix laughed.

"I don't trust you," Hermione began again when Bellatrix's laughter died down, "and that's why if we do this then we're sticking together. No leaving the other one to take care of business alone or being sketchy about things in our past that could be related to Harry. I want complete honesty and, in return, I will give you the same thing."

The look on Bellatrix's face was challenging but Hermione knew it wasn't an unfair ask, so she waited for the dark witch to finally give in with a sigh.

She did. "Fine, so where do you propose we stay? I can't get inside Potter's place, not for another year at least."

"Well, where are you staying now?" Hermione asked.

"My safehouse."

"We can stay there then."

"No, we certainly cannot."

"Why," Hermione raised an eyebrow, something she could apparently do perfectly in the blonde's body, "hiding something?"

"Yes, actually," Bellatrix hissed, "the location of my one remaining safehouse. Only one person knows the location of that house and I will be damned if you become the second. If you decided to go off at any point, you could easily go to the Ministry and tell them the location. Then where would I be?"

"What happened to trust?"

"What happened to self-preservation? You would do the same in my position."

Hermione had to admit that she probably wouldn't have liked the idea of showing someone who you might consider an enemy the location of her last remaining safehouse, but she might have considered it if it meant solving Harry's murder sooner.

"This won't work unless we stick together, day and night," Hermione said firmly. "And besides, I'm sure you'd have me killed before I could utter a word to the Ministry, or anyone else."

The desperation returned to the dark witch's unfamiliar eyes before it was soon replaced with defeat and a sigh escaped Bella's lips.

"Fine, we can stay at my safehouse. I don't know if you've ever been under the Cruciatus Curse before but I can promise you, Muddy, if you tell anyone where it is then I will make you scream until your throat is so raw you won't ever speak again. I'm warning you."

As much as Hermione didn't like the threat, she didn't mention it. She just sat in silence awkwardly, thinking about what it might be like to be under the influence of such a nasty curse. She shuddered.

"This potion won't last forever. If you want to go to the safehouse, we're going now," Bellatrix started to get up to leave and Hermione followed suit.

"Wait, I need to get my things from Privet Drive."

Bellatrix let out a groan and it was the most childish thing Hermione had seen the witch do yet. "Fine. I'll take us there, you go in and get your things and we'll go."

Hermione nodded as they started to walk out.

"I have a question."

"Already?" Bellatrix's tone was only half joking.

"How could you find me? All those times I apparated, when you followed me home, how did you know where I was?"

Bellatrix pursed her lips playfully as she held out her arm for Hermione to take so they could apparate together. "You have the Trace on you, I simply called in a few favours."

Hermione knew she wouldn't get much else out of Bellatrix now, so she simply took the witch's arm and tried to think about anything else other than the feeling of apparating.

 _What are you doing?_ she thought to herself as she did it, breathing a sigh of relief when they landed at Privet Drive.

The Death Eater had no reason to take her anywhere else, but Hermione had still been anxious about the possibility that it was a trap and she was being lead to her death. After all, it was Bellatrix they were talking about, but Hermione didn't want to think too hard about that. She didn't want to think about all the horrible things the witch had done because it made her angry and she couldn't be angry if this alliance was going to work, at least that's what she told herself.

"Be quick," Bellatrix said snappily, standing and waiting where the wards began before Hermione ran up to the house, careful no one was around before she unlocked and opened the door and stepped inside.

She closed the door behind her and went quickly to the kitchen where her sleeping bag and other clothes lay.

Sure enough, she was out of the house in no more than a couple minutes, grabbing Bellatrix's arm again and quickly finding herself facing an overgrown house situated at the end of a winding path that lead down a hill to a village.

Hermione couldn't tell which village, or where exactly they were, but it was very secluded. Hermione also imagined that there were plenty of wards on the house to keep others out.

The ivy that grew around the stone was beautiful, but Hermione snapped back to reality when Bellatrix opened the door and stepped inside, looking back at her.

Hermione hurried to follow, not wanting to be left behind and stepped from the stone step onto a perfectly polished light wooden floor. Despite the floors being in perfect condition, the walls were not. The paint was peeling away, revealing the grey plaster underneath.

"While I was away," Bellatrix began, obviously seeing Hermione glance between the wall and the floor, "one elf took pride in tending to the floors every day. The walls weren't so lucky. I need to get them to redecorate at some point."

Hermione nodded, speechless. The place was still beautiful. The hallway opened up to a massive staircase that curled around and stretched to the top floor. There were five doors, two of the doors just normal doors and the other three elaborate double doors that would open up into an archway.

One of the doors was already open and Bellatrix gestured for her to follow her through it.

Hermione did and she was greeted with a big living room. Despite its size, it was very cozy. There was a fireplace with two armchairs and a sofa huddled around it, a rug under the oak coffee table between them. Behind the sofas, the wall was lined with bookcases and there was a small round table, typically one to fit four people at a restaurant, with two chairs around it in the furthest corner.

"We eat there," Bellatrix gestured to the table. "You can be in here as much as you want. The door nearest to the stairs is the kitchen, you're most likely to find an elf in there."

"You have elves?" Hermione asked, but it was a stupid question. Of course, Bellatrix had elves.

"Tilly!" Bellatrix called.

With a pop, a small female house elf appeared before them. "Mistress, you called- oh, you have a guest."

"This is Miss Granger. While she's here, you're going to serve her as you serve me. Understand?" It was odd, hearing Bellatrix address her as Miss Granger instead of muddy or mudblood.

"Y-yes, Mistress. Hello, Miss Granger," Tilly turned to Hermione and smiled nervously.

She reminded Hermione of Dobby and she smiled down at the elf. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The elf's smile went from nervous to admiring in a second and she looked up at Hermione with tear-filled eyes. "A… a pleasure, miss?"

Hermione nodded.

"You are very kind," Tilly snivelled slightly, then turned back to Bellatrix. "Did you require anything else, Mistress?"

"Tell the elves in the kitchen to cook something," Bellatrix said.

"Any preference, Mistress?"

"Surprise us," Bellatrix looked to Hermione as she spoke and the Gryffindor found herself blushing as the potion wore off and Bellatrix slowly returned to her usual self, Hermione following suit.

Turning away to hide the heat that had crept up her cheeks, and cursing herself for even blushing in the first place, she walked over to the books. "Am I allowed to read them?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "There's no muggle literature here."

Hermione turned back to face the witch when she was sure her complexion was back to normal. "I don't mind. I like wizarding literature just as much, if not better."

Bellatrix looked a little shocked at that, despite there being no valid reason that she should be, and she turned to leave. "Follow me. I want to get this over with."

Hermione did as Bellatrix said, being lead up to the top of the staircase. She was impressed, she had to admit. The house was incredible.

There was a long hallway with two doors on the left and three doors on the right. Bellatrix motioned to the second door on the left.

"That's my room. This," she pointed to the first door on the left, "is where you will be staying."

Hermione opened the door and slowly stepped inside. There was a massive bed, big enough to fit four people, never mind just one. The wooden headboard was beautifully crafted, engraved with all sorts of flowery patterns and swirls. Up against the far wall was a wardrobe and next to it a chest of drawers. There was one big window and a desk sat in front of it, the chair tucked nearly in place.

Hermione smiled. It was a nice room and there was a proper bed instead of a sleeping bag on the floor. She was going to get proper food and there were books…

"The bathroom is the second door on the right. I have my own bathroom so that one's all yours. Just don't go wandering. Stick to the rooms I've told you about and don't get in my way, then we won't have a problem. Understand?"

Hermione nodded and Bellatrix narrowed her eyes.

"What are you so happy about?"

Hermione didn't want to sound like an idiot by saying that she was happy to have food and a bed, so she just said, "It's a beautiful house."

"Mhm," Bella nodded once. "Questions?"

Hermione thought about it for a moment and then asked, "I have a cat, Crookshanks, he's part Kneazle. He'll probably find me at some point and if he does, can he stay?"

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose in disgust but eventually just settled for, "Fine."

"Thank you," Hermione said.

Bellatrix just turned and left, heading for her room and closing the door behind her.

— — —

Hermione had decided on a hot bath, which was more than needed after weeks of only being able to use spells to keep herself clean and only being able to use them in a public bathroom or dark alley.

Once she was done, she'd brushed out her wet hair and put on the last set of clean clothes she had. She'd then gone downstairs to find Bellatrix slumped in an armchair, a fire roaring in the fireplace, with a book in her hand.

The dark witch looked up when she heard Hermione come in.

"Can you dry my hair?" Hermione asked.

"No," Bellatrix said boringly, going back to reading.

"But I need someone to do it… and clean my clothes, and I can't do it here unless you want the Ministry to find us."

Without looking up, Bellatrix pulled her wand out and waved it voicelessly at Hermione. For a moment, the Gryffindor thought Bellatrix was going to hex her, but her hair just fell in dry curls around her shoulders instead.

"Give your clothes to Tilly," Bellatrix didn't look up from her book.

"Okay," Hermione turned to leave.

"Not now, dinner will be ready soon. Let her work. Do it after," Bellatrix said in a monotone.

"Okay. Um… can I-"

"Shh!" it came out as more of a hiss and Bellatrix held up her index finger. "I'm reading, I don't care."

Hermione turned to leave again, this time making it to the stairs without interruptions, but Tilly popped up in front of her, making Hermione jump.

"Tilly is so sorry!" the elf cowered away, falling backwards into a sitting position onto the stairs, and it made Hermione wonder what abuse the elf might have suffered and whose hands she suffered at the hands of.

"It's okay," Hermione said.

"Tilly only wanted to tell Miss Granger that dinner was almost ready," Tilly glanced apologetically up at the Gryffindor.

"Thank you very much," Hermione smiled. "And please, call me Hermione."

"What a beautiful name," the elf chirped.

Hermione giggled, then jumped as she saw Bellatrix out of the corner of her eye.

The dark witch rolled her eyes at Hermione, offering a hand to help the elf up. "Tilly, have we not been over this? You stand up straight, be proud of your work. There is no need to cower away anymore."

Hermione blinked, looking between Bellatrix and Tilly with wide eyes. She had never heard such words come from Bellatrix's mouth and had never expected to.

"Of course. Tilly is sorry, mistress. Sometimes she forgets."

"Just remember it for next time," the dark witch said evenly, tone equally demanding and caring. "Now if you'd care to set the table…"

"Of course, mistress!" Tilly grinned, disappearing with a pop.

Bellatrix turned back to Hermione and, obviously seeing the confused look on the witch's face, explained. "Her last master was a horrible man, very abusive."

" _Was_?" It was the only word Hermione could force out.

"Hm?" Bellatrix's eyebrows raised, an innocent look in her eyes.

"You… you said _was_. What happened to him?" Hermione said after a moment.

"Oh, I killed him," Bellatrix smiled, showing her teeth. Her eyes were sparkling with that deranged look that Hermione had seen in the Department of Mysteries and again she was reminded of how terrible her choice in company was. A part of her wondered what else was behind those crazed eyes but another part was too terrified to find out.

She turned her attention to the Death Eater's teeth which where perfectly white. She narrowed her eyes at them but couldn't remember if it was new or just something she hadn't picked up on. It bothered her.

"Come," Hermione came to the realisation that Bellatrix spoke to her as if she was an elf. Despite the fact that Bellatrix obviously treated her elves well, she didn't particularly like being spoken to like someone who was made to serve her. Hermione refused to be anything of the sort for the Death Eater.

"Dinner will be ready shortly and you wouldn't want to upset Tilly by not being ready. We can discuss our plans over our food."

Hermione would have argued if Bellatrix hadn't brought up Tilly– and she believed the dark witch knew it– so instead she just followed Bellatrix to the table which was already set and took a seat.

"So you have other elves?" Hermione tried to make light conversation, if anything to make the uneasy air between them slightly more comfortable.

It seemed to work. Bellatrix relaxed a bit as she nodded. "Yes, I have three. Tilly, Anne and Moody."

"You have an elf called Moody?" Hermione couldn't help the chuckle.

A deep frown cast over Bellatrix's face like a cloud and it took Hermione a moment to realise she was being serious. "You'll understand if you ever meet him."

Tilly popped up with plates of food and it made Hermione jump again.

"Perhaps Tilly should start popping up in the next room and announce her arrival?" the elf looked apologetically at Hermione, placing a plate of food in front of her.

The atmosphere around the two witches clouded over again and they both became very tense. Despite the new shift, Hermione still smiled at the elf.

"It's fine, Tilly. I'll get used to it. This looks lovely."

"You can thank Moody for this. Despite being terrible company, he's a tremendous cook," Bellatrix looked to the elf that Hermione could blatantly see Bellatrix favoured. "Isn't that right, Tilly?"

Tilly nodded, ears flopping, as she set Bellatrix's plate in front of her. "Absolutely, Mistress. Tilly often trades chores with Moody if Moody can make Tilly one of his signature puddings."

For the first time, Hermione noticed how well the elf spoke. Hermione had never come across an elf that couldn't speak well, but Tilly was incredibly well spoken for her kind. Perhaps that was why Bellatrix indulged in conversation with her.

"And who could blame you?" Bellatrix said, raising an eyebrow at Hermione.

Hermione felt herself warming to the Death Eater and caught herself, frowning internally. This was Bellatrix! Was she so easily won over by something so simple as treating an elf well, something that should be done anyway? She looked at Bellatrix again, at the friendly way she conversed with the small female elf, and couldn't help but think that the woman in front of her was not the Bellatrix Lestrange she knew. Not at all.

The Bellatrix Hermione knew ran through the halls of the Ministry, cackling and smirking as she announced that she'd killed her cousin. The Bellatrix Hermione knew taunted her and her friends and threatened the ones they loved.

And yet, here she was, being perfectly proper to her house elf and making Hermione smile as if they were old friends.

For the hundredth time, Hermione wondered what the hell she was doing.

When the elf disappeared, Bellatrix turned to her food with a childish grin.

Hermione looked down and noticed that it was some kind of a stir fry on a bed of noodles. She hadn't had food like that since she saw her parents last.

Thinking of her parents brought a wave of melancholia over the Gryffindor and she felt her eyebrows draw together. It would only be so long until whoever was trying to find her went to them and– if they hadn't already– Hermione had no way of protecting them when she had to stay hidden.

She was torn from her train of thought as Bellatrix rested her elbow on the table, a forkful of noodles hanging over her plate as she scooped them into her mouth.

"So," she said, only half finished with her mouthful, "do you want to know how Potter died or not?"

Hermione perked up at that, despite not particularly wanting to talk about Harry with Bellatrix, and nodded her head.

"I'm listening," she said and Bellatrix's smile was verging on the side of cruel as she launched into a lengthy explanation, the same insane glint in her eyes as before.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** _And here's what killed the infamous Harry Potter :P_

 _Thank you to DarkSnow3 for beta reading and, as always, NotesFromTheChamber for… well just breathing basically._

— — —

"It was a potion," Bellatrix said simply from her place across the table, shrugging slightly as she ate another mouthful of food.

Hermione watched the dark witch, poking at her own food. She was too uncomfortable in her surroundings to eat massive portions of food, despite the noodles being delicious. Bellatrix on the other hand looked perfectly fine.

"A potion?"

Bellatrix nodded.

"Okay, tell me about it," Hermione prompted.

Bellatrix looked at Hermione with uncertainty coating her expression like a thick paint. Her forehead creased as she looked Hermione over from where she sat. At first, the Gryffindor glared back at her but her features softened when Bellatrix sighed tiresomely, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger with closed eyes.

There was a moment– just a moment– when Hermione pitied Bellatrix. When the dark witch opened her eyes and looked at Hermione, there was a darkness behind the bottomless pits of dark brown that chilled Hermione to the bone. Looking into them, she remembered one of the memories that she'd come across in Bellatrix's head that she hadn't made sense of at the time.

It was of a broken nail raking itself over a damp stone wall and the sound of waves meeting resistance against the rocks. Hermione realised now that it was a memory of Bellatrix's time in Azkaban and she shivered.

It had been so cold, so dark, so…

"It's called Acrimony," Bellatrix's voice was hollow, as if she was under the influence of a poorly executed Imperius Curse.

"And?"

"It was created at first to torture, to cause the feeling of constant drowning until the appropriate antidote was given. But the creator soon got bored of it, and they improved it," Hermione wasn't sure _improved_ was the right word, but she didn't say anything in the fear that interrupting Bellatrix would put an end to the storytelling.

"So they made it into a killer. The potion would not only cause the feeling of drowning but would also eventually cause drowning to occur. It changes the consistency of the skin and rots away the eyes and lips. That's what killed Potter."

"How do you know this?" Hermione didn't know if she wanted to know, but after consideration thought that it was best to know Bellatrix's part in this.

There was a silence before Bellatrix dropped her fork onto her plate in a nonchalant manner, a small bitter smile twisting her lips. "Because I made it."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. She hadn't seen that one coming, but it made perfect sense. It would explain why everyone was after her, at least.

" _You_ created the potion?"

"Your lack of confidence in my skill is marginally insulting," commented Bellatrix with a smirk.

Hermione didn't appreciate the older witch's humour at a time like this and she let the displeasure show on her face. She should have known better though, as the expression only made Bellatrix laugh childishly.

"So who would have had access to this potion or the recipe?" Hermione pushed her plate away enough so that she could rest her folded arms on the table.

"That's the bitch," Bellatrix hissed. "No one should have access to it. I made it, I wrote down a list of the ingredients once without measurements but it's remained in this house since the day I wrote it down and hasn't left. No one has broken in; I would know if they had, at least. I never shared it with anyone. It was _mine_."

Hermione had never seen Bellatrix truly angry. She'd seen her go out of her mind and murder people but that was entirely different. This was true anger, the type of anger that made lesser beings shake in the presence of someone exerting it, and it fascinated Hermione.

 _Maybe you're the crazy one,_ she thought.

"So how do we find out who made the potion to kill him?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Bellatrix pushed back from the table, the chair knocking backwards onto the floor as she stood. "I don't _know_!"

The shout was more like a scream as Bellatrix picked up her goblet and threw it into the fireplace, most of the liquid still managing to stay in the cup until impact, as the dying flames roared to life again.

Hermione flinched, but stayed exactly where she was. Bellatrix's heavily breathing figure stood staring at the Gryffindor before an elderly female elf appeared.

"Anne heard the noise, Mistress," she said in a calm and soothing voice, "is everything okay?"

Bellatrix's snappy reply surprised Hermione, considering how nice Bellatrix had been to Tilly. "I'm fine!"

The tone didn't seem to surprise the elf and Hermione watched her intently. She was reasonably well dressed for an elf, the sheet she wore was clean and without a single crease, and she looked well kept herself. Tilly had been the same.

"Mistress knows Anne cares for her like a daughter. If something is wrong, Anne would like to be of as much help as possible," the elf's kind smile remained and Hermione clung to the words she'd said.

 _She cares for Bellatrix like a daughter? What kind of a creature would ever care for Bellatrix in any way?_ she thought.

"The potion," Bellatrix gestured towards the door, hands still balled into fists and anger coming off of her like heat, "upstairs, on the second shelf, the blue bottle with the gold lid."

Anne was gone and merely a second later, she reappeared with a bottle in her hand as Bellatrix had described, holding it out to Bellatrix who snatched it, sparing an uneasy sideways glance at Hermione before she popped the stopper and downed the contents.

Hermione watched Bellatrix's crazed eyes haze over for a second before her angular features softened again.

"Calming draught," Hermione mumbled under her breath.

"Actually, a very light version of a sleeping draught," Bellatrix said, her voice even, "but sleep does not come to me easily and calming draughts are a lot trickier to make."

It dawned on Hermione that perhaps Bellatrix was not as sane as she had come across as over the last few weeks. In fact, Hermione had just caught a glimpse of the woman she'd met in the Department of Mysteries for the first time since Harry's death.

Or maybe she was overreacting, she considered, but the blood in her veins still ran cold. She had started to feel– for lack of any better word and bearing in mind that it was a stretch– _comfortable_ around the dark witch.

Now, however, the fear was paralysing as Bellatrix's dark eyes fixed on Hermione's hazel ones and her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Don't look at me like that, mudblood."

Hermione fought to tear her eyes away from Bellatrix but she couldn't. She could only blink and open her mouth to speak, words getting caught in her throat before they could make their way out.

Bellatrix's jaw clenched visibly and the dark witch only hissed before storming away, cloak billowing behind her as her pace towards the stairs quickened.

Hermione hadn't realised that she was crying until Tilly had appeared after Anne left, handing her a tissue with a small smile.

"I'm sorry," she managed between silent cries.

"Miss Granger does not need to be sorry. Mistress' outbursts can be alarming," the small elf held out another tissue but Hermione was sure she had composed herself and declined.

She had composed herself enough, it seemed, and she did not break down again when she asked, "She has to take sleeping draughts to stay sane?"

The small elf shook her head. "Of course not. It's just, Mistress has been under a lot of stress. Usually, she is fine but right now…"

Hermione watched Tilly for a moment as the elf looked nervously towards the door, as if deciding whether or not to speak, trying to tell if Bellatrix would be able to hear her.

"Mistress hasn't left the house much," Tilly said carefully. "Anne, Moody and Tilly think that she needs to go back to… work."

The last word was said in a grim tone, the elf visibly cringing before she wiped the uneasy expression from her face. Hermione thought she understood what Tilly was saying. Of course, Bellatrix would not have had any form of outlet for her negative energy recently because she didn't have Voldemort to serve. She had been cooped up in the house all the time, reading or speaking to her elves. It wouldn't have surprised Hermione if the only time the witch had gone outside recently was to bother her.

"Do not take it personally," Tilly said softly, "Mistress often doesn't mean the things she says when she is in such a state."

Hermione laughed bitterly. "I am muggleborn and therefore inferior in her mind. The things she says to me she means with every fibre, sound mind or not."

"On the contrary," Tilly's ears perked up. "Mistress spoke quite highly of Miss Granger before she arrived. Admittedly, they were angry ramblings about Miss Granger's stubbornness or 'inability to know what was good for her if it slapped her in the face'," the elf continued nervously after quoting her mistress, "but she said that Miss Granger showed skill and promise."

This caught Hermione off guard. She never expected to receive a compliment from a pureblood and, if she had ever expected it, she would have least expected it from Bellatrix. From the way the witch carried herself, you could tell she thought she was better than everyone else. The mere way she carried her head, chin tilted up so she could look down on you– _despite being short,_ Hermione mused to herself– made everyone around her feel like ants she would be willing to step on.

In the comfort of her own home, the witch seemed to drop the act a little, but Hermione often noticed the Slytherin adopt this stance again when she caught Hermione looking at her.

"Give her time," Tilly said eagerly.

"I'm not giving her anything," Hermione's voice came out harsher than she meant it to. "We made a deal and she has to fulfil her end of the bargain. I will then be out of her life and I never want to see her again."

"It's a shame," the elf's ears drooped. "It would have been nice for Mistress to finally have a friend outside of family again."

Hermione did not want to be Bellatrix's friend– she didn't particularly want to be Bellatrix's anything– not her ally, not her enemy, not her friend. She would rather fall prey to an Unforgivable than work with the witch beyond what their deal entailed. But she couldn't help holding onto the fact that Tilly had said _again_ , suggesting the Bellatrix had had friends before.

Hermione wondered what happened to them.

She was so wrapped up in thought that she hadn't noticed Tilly leave or Bellatrix return again. It was only when the dark witch took her seat and cleared her throat that Hermione finally snapped back to reality.

"My elf said I upset you," Bellatrix's voice was disregarding, her gaze tiresomely searching the table for nothing in particular.

"I'm fine," Hermione said with conviction, sitting up straighter.

Immediately, as if Hermione had just instigated some sort of a challenge, Bellatrix followed suit.

"Come now, muddy," Bellatrix stood again, despite having just sat down, "let me show you a true potions master at work."

— — —

Hermione had been very impressed when Bellatrix had lead her wordlessly upstairs and through the furthest door on the right. It was a potions room.

The walls were lined with drawers and shelving, some holding potions and some holding ingredients. There were four tables in the room. Two held cutting boards and other tools and the other two held cauldrons, ingredient carnage scattered around one of them as a syrupy liquid bubbled over a light flame.

Bellatrix had ignored Hermione's awestruck expression and pulled a clear jar from a draw, thrusting it into her face.

Hermione took it, looking at the vibrant yellow flower in it. It went darker, almost orange in the middle, the tips of the flower petals verging on white by the time you reached their ends. The contrast between the colour changes was striking and obvious, not fading into each other in a gradient. Inside the flower, black pollen resided and, as Hermione opened the jar, the floral smell hit her in the face like a brick.

 _Merlin, that's strong!_ she cringed, putting the lid back on.

"What is it?" she asked, feeling like she was about to sneeze.

"A very rare flower. It's called Yellow Peril. I use it in the potion," Bellatrix took the jar back.

"So?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"So," Bellatrix continued as if it were obvious, putting the jar down with an eye roll, an action that reminded Hermione a lot of herself, "there is only one supplier that I know of in the UK and he keeps a strict log of everyone who purchases his product. We find him, we get his buyers log, we find the killer."

"That's… brilliant," Hermione hated to admit it but it was.

"You're welcome," Bellatrix stashed the jar away again, a proud smile on her face. "I trust that you would be able to spot anyone on the list who knew Potter?"

"I can try," Hermione nodded.

"Mhm."

The silence that fell was a heavy one and, while Bellatrix wasn't throwing potion ingredients into her face, she walked over to the potion that was currently brewing in one of the cauldrons.

She pointed at the bubbling contents. "What's this?"

"Veritaserum," Bellatrix's smile was a mischievous one, "for anyone we have to question about Potter. It became apparent a few weeks ago that you might not be one to… _approve_ … of my methods, so I wanted a backup. It also saves a lot of time and a lot of mess. Torture is fun but only when you've got someone to clean up afterwards."

Hermione blinked and cringed as Bellatrix finished.

"The corpse isn't exactly going to do it."

Despite the last part, Hermione was oddly warmed by the fact that Bellatrix had thought to brew Veritaserum with her in mind, even if it was for her own gain as well.

"So we will use this on your supplier?" Hermione asked.

"It won't be of much help. We're not looking for the truth from him, we're looking for a book. But if you know a potion that makes importers give up their log books then now would be the time to tell me. After all, my supply of ingredients is practically unlimited here, barring the rarer ones."

Hermione couldn't argue and she did not know of such potion because she was sure such potion didn't exist.

The other cauldron was empty but had clearly been used recently and not yet been cleaned. Out of curiosity, Hermione leaned over it and then glanced up at Bellatrix.

"What was in here?"

"Can you not smell it?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, advancing towards the empty cauldron.

Hermione removed the mixing stick and leaned down, inhaling deeply only to move away, her eyes threatening to water at the smell. "Polyjuice."

"That got us around Hogsmeade," Bella smiled proudly.

"But… it takes a month to brew. That means you would have started brewing it before you even asked me to help you," Hermione pointed out.

"I wasn't planning to use the potion on us," she said with a shrug. "It just seemed like a good thing to have handy."

"I brewed polyjuice successfully in my second year at Hogwarts," Hermione said with a proud smirk.

Bellatrix nodded, her eyes conveying the smug smile her lips did not. "I brewed it successfully in my first."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "How did you even know about all the ingredients and the–"

"Because while you had no idea magic existed, I spent hours in my father's library reading old Black diaries. Technically it was my mother's library, considering how much time she spent in it," Bellatrix's voice verged on cruel. "Now does muddy see why pureblood upbringings are far superior to muggle ones?"

"You know, Bellatrix," Hermione said airily, setting her glass mixing stick down delicately by the cauldron, "There's a quote– 'which is better– to be born good, or to overcome an evil nature through great effort?'. The same principle applies here; which is better? To be born with every advantage, or to be born with every _dis_ advantage and become equal to those who had so much more through _pure_ hard work?" Hermione put an almost goading amount of emphasis onto the word 'pure'.

Bellatrix didn't speak, she just looked at Hermione like she'd bitten into a lemon, her eyes which were once bright and sparkling now dark and murderous.

"What's the matter?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, failing to contain the mischievous smile.

 _What on earth are you doing?_ piped up a voice in her head as Bellatrix sucked in an angry breath and Hermione could swear she saw steam coming out of Bellatrix's ears. _Are you_ trying _to get yourself killed?_

Apparently so. Bellatrix stepped close enough to Hermione that the Gryffindor needed to take a step back. Hermione would have been less scared if Bellatrix had shouted or screamed again, but she only stared, unblinking at Hermione through her eyelashes.

Hermione's heart beat faster and faster, her breath catching in her throat more and more the longer the dark witch's stare lasted.

After a long and agonising moment of silence, Bellatrix blinked and broke the glare, tilting her chin back up in the manner she usually did.

"You better watch yourself," she sang before she turned and walked away.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** _As always, your reviews make my day. Keep them coming, the support encourages me to write, even when I'm struggling to! Love you all, especially my beta readers hehe xox_

— — —

Talking with Bellatrix about muggle and pureblood upbringings had made Hermione think about her parents again. Her first night in the comfortable bed Bellatrix had provided her had left her happy for only a short moment before she'd pictured their faces and all the horrible things that could happen to them as a result of the war.

Tears had slipped down to her pillow as she'd lay on her back and silently stared up at the ceiling.

Again, she worried over what she was doing with Bellatrix as an ally– could she really call her that? Bellatrix had killed people, innocent people. Hermione still wasn't convinced that it wasn't Bellatrix all along who killed Harry and that this was just a game she wanted to play with her little _muddy_.

She had to admit, if Bellatrix was just playing her, she was going to some extraordinary lengths to do so.

The elves were something that made Hermione believe Bellatrix was telling the truth. Tilly was so small, so kind, she didn't believe the elf would be capable of lying to such an extent.

Then there was the way that everything– annoyingly– seemed to add up. There were no holes in Bellatrix's stories, nothing that didn't have a reason or a link. It drove Hermione mad that night as she tried to pick holes in everything, tried to convince herself that she was being lied to, but logic always piped up with an explanation.

Eventually, Hermione had fallen asleep and she woke to the sun trying desperately to burst through the thin fabric of the curtains, a golden glow illuminating the room.

Hermione threw the warm duvet to the bottom of her feet and, dressed in nothing but her underwear, she went over to the window and opened it, having to lean over the desk to reach.

The August air was cold, but the sun made up for it and Hermione stood in the light with the curtains pulled back until goosebumps rose on her skin and she could not take the breeze any longer.

Hermione could have sworn that she had dumped her clothes over the desk, but when she looked at them now, they were folded neatly in a pile.

 _I need to get some new ones,_ she thought to herself as she dressed.

Upon opening the bedroom door, the smell of bacon filled Hermione's nostrils. She smiled. It had been so long since she'd had a proper breakfast, something other than dry cereal from the packet, that she forgot where she was.

In the excitement, she leapt out only to bump right into Bellatrix, obviously having so much force in her bound that they both went crashing against the opposite wall of the hallway.

" _Oof!_ " Bellatrix, who was usually so good at staying on her guard, was not expecting this attack and her shoulder made an odd crunching noise as it connected with the wall.

Instinctively, the dark witch grasped for what had attacked her, immediately getting Hermione's arms behind her back and pressing the brunette's front against where her shoulder had smashed into.

"Let me go!" Hermione demanded, breathless with shock.

Bellatrix's grip loosened but did not give in altogether. She still held Hermione where she was, pressed firmly against the wall with her cheek flat against the surface, holding her arms bent at a very awkward angle behind her.

She smirked, holding her tighter again when she struggled.

"Bellatrix," Hermione said firmly, a warning that Bellatrix was not inclined to take notice of.

Bellatrix chuckled to herself. It gave her quite the kick, having the younger witch in such a compromising position, and she wasn't prepared to give up her fun yet.

" _Bellatrix_ ," Hermione said again, struggling harder.

Bella only laughed, tightening her grip yet again until the girl whined uneasily from the pain. Eventually, she stopped trying and she just stood there where Bellatrix wanted her with a huff.

"Come now, muddy," Bellatrix pressed herself against Hermione's back, lips against her ear, "ask nicely."

Hermione felt heat creep up her neck and spread over her cheeks. Her stomach flipped when Bella pressed their bodies harder against each other and she said, lips brushing Hermione's earlobe, "I don't hear you."

"Please," Hermione said in a breathy voice.

Bellatrix made a tut-tut noise, still smirking behind Hermione's back. "Please what?"

Hermione struggled to get free again but she was stuck and there was no way out of the position she was in besides the one Bellatrix was giving her, despite how humiliating it was.

"Please, let me go," Hermione said in the most even voice she could muster.

Bellatrix laughed but released her, stepping back. Hermione rubbed her wrists which were sore from the hold Bella had on her and rolled her shoulders.

Bellatrix pretended not to notice the blush that had crept up Hermione's cheeks but she found it rather satisfying.

"What's got you shoving me against walls anyway?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and, if Hermione didn't know any better, she might have said the older witch was trying to be playful. "I had no idea you were that way inclined."

Hermione gasped when Bellatrix finally plucked for the last word and shook her head. "I'm- I'm not," she stuttered.

Bellatrix laughed, nodding as she placed her hands on her hips. "Of course not. You've got your ginger weasel, haven't you?"

"Who? Ron? There's nothing there with me and Ron. What do you… why-?"

"Maybe you should practice forming full sentences before you come downstairs. I believe there's a mirror in your room," Bellatrix's smile was smug as she dropped her arms and headed for the stairs. "I'll see you at breakfast."

The humiliation was too much. As soon as the dark witch was out of sight, Hermione slumped against the wall, letting out a breath she only now realised she'd been holding, sliding down the wall into a sitting position and resting her elbows on her knees so her hands could prop up her head.

"Jesus Christ," she breathed and realised that she'd broken a sweat, her breaths coming in ragged and uneven gasps.

She hadn't been prepared for that so soon after waking up and it was only when she was confident that her feet could hold her that she pushed herself up and stood.

On reasonably shaky legs, she made her way downstairs to find Bellatrix in the sitting room, slouched in an armchair with her back against one arm and legs dangling over the other, reading a book as if nothing had happened.

"Good morning," she said cooly.

 _Good morning?_ Hermione thought with wide eyes, then they narrowed as they met Bellatrix's.

"You look flushed, are you feeling unwell?" the dark witch's face was expressionless as she turned back to her book.

It suddenly dawned on Hermione what this was. This was payback. She had humiliated Bellatrix yesterday talking about upbringings and now Bellatrix had humiliated her.

 _I think she outdid you,_ Hermione thought bitterly as her eyes wandered to Bellatrix's cleavage.

"I'm fine," she said surely, tearing her eyes away.

She went and sat at the table which had already been set and frowned down at the empty space in front of her. It wasn't long before Bellatrix joined her, placing the book she'd been reading next her her on the edge of the table

"I owled my supplier last night and received a reply this morning with a meeting time and his location. We're leaving before sunset. I told him it was urgent and that I would pay a bonus for the short notice," Bellatrix explained.

"That's good, so what's the plan when we get there?" Hermione rested her arms on the table, leaning in slightly as she slouched.

"We will question him," the cruel smile that twisted Bellatrix's lips told Hermione that question was another word for torture. "Don't look so panicked. We will take his log book and leave. _You_ will have to wear something a little better than that."

Hermione looked down at her jeans and hoodie, the only clothes she had left, and frowned. "All of my clothes that I took with me are like this."

Bellatrix looked at her like she was a lost cause, sighing. "I'll have to get Tilly to pick some things up for you. Tilly!"

The elf popped up with food, placing it in front of them. "Yes, Mistress?"

Hermione grinned down at the bacon, toast and eggs that were in front of her, eyes wide with excitement.

"Please refer to the sizes of Hermione's current clothing and pick her up something classy. I won't walk around with her dressed in that," Bellatrix's voice was laced with disgust but that wasn't what caught Hermione's attention.

Had Bellatrix Lestrange just said please to an elf?

"Of course, Mistress. Tilly will do it right away," the elf disappeared the same way she came in, with a small cracking noise.

"I… I don't want new clothes," Hermione said quietly.

"You can't look like a muggleborn when we see my supplier. Not only will he immediately be suspicious but he will also disregard you completely. You'll be told to wait outside like a dog. You need to look the part of a pureblood, carry yourself in a certain way," Bellatrix tilted her head to one side, looking at Hermione's posture. She grimaced.

Hermione leapt to defend herself. "Hey, I'm not that bad."

With a defeated sigh, Bellatrix shook her head. "You are not, but if you were any worse I would not have been able to work with you."

Hermione contemplated this for a moment, then decided that it was probably the closest to a compliment that she would ever get from the dark witch and she turned her attention to her food with yet another gleeful smile.

— — —

The beginning of Hermione's day was spent browsing Bellatrix's library. The older witch had great taste in books, Hermione found. Literature was something she appreciated and admired, and Bellatrix seemed to appreciate it the same way she did.

Stories weren't the only thing that adorned the bookshelf. There were a lot of advanced magic books that Hermione took great delight in browsing through with wide, curious eyes.

All the while, when Hermione was too engrossed in a page to notice, Bellatrix would glance up from her book and watch Hermione turn yet another page, a pile of her most treasured potions, transfiguration and charms books on the carpet next to her by the fire.

Hunched over a page about wandless magic, Hermione did not notice the dark eyes that were focused so intently on her. Instead, she soaked up all the information from the books she could in the fear that she may never be able to access them again.

When Bellatrix saw Hermione reading a page about an invisibility potion, she couldn't help but chip in.

"The instructions are wrong," she said, slicing through the silence.

Hermione's head snapped up and she met Bellatrix's gaze. "Hm?"

"The potion," Bellatrix clarified, "the one that you're reading about, the instructions are all wrong. The method clearly states that you need to add the ingredients in the order they are listed, but the potion only works if you add them backwards."

Hermione glanced down at the page and, sure enough, it said exactly that. She looked back up at Bellatrix. "How do you know that?"

"Trial and error. A lot of potions in that book are written out incorrectly, but it's still one of my favourites."

Tilly appeared between Bellatrix and Hermione, looking straight towards Hermione as she smiled. "Miss Granger-"

"Hermione," the Gryffindor corrected as she returned the smile. "Please, call me Hermione."

"If you wish, Miss Hermione," the elf said. "Tilly would like Miss Hermione to come upstairs and bathe so that she can try on her new clothes."

"Plural?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, yes," Tilly nodded enthusiastically.

Hermione looked to Bellatrix who didn't seem to be making any objections and was back to reading her book, sprawled out in what Hermione had now labeled as _Bellatrix's Favourite Armchair_. She then sighed in defeat and took the elf's hand, half expecting to be lead up the stairs.

Instead, the elf simply apparated her into the bathroom, a hot bath waiting for her when they arrived.

Hermione looked to the elf but she had already gone again. Hermione waited for a moment for her to return and, when it was apparent that she would not be back anytime soon, Hermione undressed and slipped slowly into the hot sea of bubbles.

Tilly appeared again once Hermione had settled into the bath with a silk robe. "Miss Hermione can dress in this when she is finished in her bath."

"Is that Bellatrix's robe?"

"No, this is now Hermione's. Tilly found it today when she shopped."

"But, Tilly-" Hermione begun, but the elf had already gone.

She sighed again, turning her attention to washing, getting out of the bath and drying. When she was done, she hung her towel on the towel rack– despite knowing all too well that an elf would just refold and hang it again later– and turned, naked, to the robe that lay draped over a standing mirror in the corner by the sink.

Walking over to it, she picked it up and put it on, admiring herself in it once she'd tied it around her middle. It did look nice, not to mention how comfortable it was.

With a sigh, Hermione glanced back at the massive bathtub which was already empty and then left the room, heading downstairs to find Bellatrix to dry her hair.

The witch was where she'd left her, in her favourite armchair with her book. She seemed to be at the end of the book now and Hermione wondered what she would read next.

"Can you please dry my-" Hermione didn't get a chance to finish.

Bellatrix raised her wand without looking and Hermione's hair fell in the same perfect dry curls it had before. She smiled.

"Thanks."

Bellatrix finally looked up, obviously having finished the novel since she closed it without marking the page, and her eyes swept over Hermione in the silk gown.

"Tilly does have taste," she said, almost to herself, with a small appreciative smile.

Hermione nodded once before she turned to leave, heading for the kitchen. Before she could open the door, however, Tilly appeared behind her.

"Miss Hermione suits the gown," she said happily.

Hermione turned and nodded. "I do like it. Thank you, Tilly."

"Miss Hermione is most welcome. Now, for other clothes."

This time, the elf did lead Hermione up the stairs to her bedroom. Waiting for her were some clothes that Hermione would have never dreamt of wearing. There was a deep dark red robe with black stitching lying on the bed along with some skinny black jeans and a very nice looking black and grey checkered shirt. Accompanying them on the floor were a pair of knee-high black lace up flat boots. The elf had obviously tried to accommodate both Bellatrix's orders and Hermione's comfort, along with her Hogwarts House, judging by the colours.

"I can't wear that," Hermione said, her mouth agape and she looked from the grinning elf to the clothes again.

"Miss Hermione will suit it, Tilly promises."

The bright look on the elf's face was the only reason Hermione tolerated trying on the clothes. However, when she finally did look in the mirror, she had to admit that she liked what she saw looking back at her.

The robe was weighty, but still lighter than she had expected considering how warm it was and it was a nice contrast to the black she wore underneath. The pockets were deep, and it was only when her hands fell deeper than the pockets should have allowed that she realised they were charmed.

"Miss Hermione looks gorgeous!" Tilly screeched excitedly. "She must show Mistress right away."

Hermione was about to mutter something to the elf about not caring for Bellatrix's opinion but she had already left. Hermione trudged downstairs in her new outfit, boots and all, and walked into the living room with her arms crossed.

"Is this good enough for you?"

Bellatrix looked up from the new book she had chosen and opened her mouth to speak before she processed the young witch in front of her. When her eyes finally took in the woman, her open mouth slowly closed until her lips were only slightly parted as she let her eyes drink in the sight before her.

The way Bellatrix looked at her made Hermione involuntarily think of her holding her against the wall and she shook her head to clear the image. "Well?"

Bellatrix stood, still looking Hermione up and down as she advanced. When her eyes settled on the familiar hazel ones, she stopped and lifted her finger to tilt Hermione's chin up.

"Chin up, shoulders back, back straight," she said firmly, but there was something in her tone that Hermione couldn't decipher.

When Hermione did as Bellatrix told her, the dark witch smiled. "Very good. Now speak."

"I'm not a dog," Hermione wrinkled her nose, her voice snappy.

"Not bad," Bellatrix looked her up and down again, unable to help herself. "Try speaking to me like you are my superior. I'll allow it just this once. This is how you will speak to my supplier and everyone else you come across with me. If you do this and keep your hood up, people will barely recognise you."

"You want me to speak to you like I'm your superior?" Hermione questioned. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything you like," Bellatrix offered, taking a step back. "The stage is yours."

Hermione stuttered for a moment.

"Come on, muddy," Bellatrix pursed her lips to hide the smirk, "or do I need to hold you against the wall again?"

"Do _not_ call me muddy," Hermione spat, "and if you'd like to try then go ahead, but it may well be the last thing you do!"

Bellatrix was quiet for a second before she broke out into laughter and clapped her hands together. "Very good! Authority suits you, muddy," the dark witch said pointedly, "but if you ever speak to me like that again, it may well be the last thing _you_ do."

Hermione remained quiet, not wanting to stir the pot as Bellatrix's eyes raked over her once more. This was unfamiliar territory and she wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation.

The silence was nice for a moment before Bellatrix interrupted it suddenly, making Hermione jump a little.

There was an excited sparkle in her eyes and the smile she wore wasn't cruel like her usual ones, it was almost child-like. "Well, time to head off. I'll collect my robe. Be ready to apparate when I get back."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** _Thank you DarkSnow3 for beta reading :3 and thank_ you _for sticking with this story :)_

— — —

Hermione had stumbled a bit when Bellatrix had apparated them to their next destination and she had instinctively grabbed the older woman's arm for support. After an odd sideways glance from the dark witch, Hermione had quickly let go and turned her attention to the faded red brick house in front of them.

They were on a street of houses which all looked the same, but Hermione couldn't determine where they were geographically.

"Where are we?" her eyes followed Bellatrix as she climbed the steps to the front door of the house.

"My supplier," Bellatrix said.

Hermione nodded, finally joining Bellatrix at the front door when she realised that was all she was going to get. Bellatrix knocked on the door as she did and within seconds a tall lanky man answered.

"Ah, Mrs Lestrange!" he held his arms out as if he was going for a hug, but Bellatrix just waltzed right by him into his house.

His eyes fell on Hermione and he glanced up and down appreciatively. "And you are?"

"I'm-" Hermione stopped herself, remembering what Bellatrix had told her about acting superior, before she finished, "no one you're worthy of an introduction to."

 _Ouch_. Even though he didn't say it, it showed on the man's face that his pride had been hurt as Hermione followed Bella into the house. It was filthy, but Hermione didn't know what she had been expecting. One night in Bella's safehouse had upped her standards considerably, which wasn't necessarily a good thing in her situation.

Hermione found that the entirety of the downstairs of the small townhouse was open. To the right of the door was a wooden spiral staircase, to the left a kitchen area and the rest housed a dining table with chairs and a comfy looking sofa.

"Try not to speak," Bellatrix whispered before the man could get within earshot.

Hermione just nodded once, deciding it wasn't worth challenging her.

"I need something from you," Bella's voice was light, conversational.

The man nodded. "Of course, I have the jar upstairs-"

"Not the flower. I need your log book."

The man's jaw went slack and he just stared, slowly switching between Bellatrix and Hermione with a vacant expression.

"I know you lack basic intelligence, but do at least make an effort to stay with us, Carter," Bellatrix's bored tone made Hermione chuckle as the man returned from whatever planet he'd been on.

"My log book is private," the man, now identified as Carter, shifted uncomfortably.

"I. Need. It," the careful pronunciation of each word combined with the cruel look on her face made Bellatrix look even scarier than she usually did– and somehow even more beautiful too.

Carter stumbled back and slowly picked up a leather bound book from the desk behind him, clutching it to his chest. "But it's mine."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and she looked to Hermione, gesturing with her eyes towards the book.

Hermione could only guess that Bellatrix wanted her to get it, so she waited until Bellatrix started engaging him in conversation again, until his attention was far from her before she crept up behind him and snatched the book from his arms.

"Hey! Give that back!" he lunged for Hermione, wand out, and managed to elbow her and hit her with a hex across the cheek, causing a burn mark to appear where the magic had struck.

The elbow had been pathetic and had only left a dull ache in her ribs, but the burn stung and Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself from crying out.

She turned to hex him back, not thinking for a moment about having the Trace on her, but before she could Bellatrix already had him suspended in the air, a cruel smile painted on her face as she held her wand aimed at him.

"Is that any way to treat a young lady?" Bellatrix sounded less appalled and more gleeful, and Hermione could only guess it was because she had an excuse to inflict pain. "Cruci-"

"No!" Hermione stepped in front of Bella, blocking her path to Carter as whatever magic was suspending him fell away and he hit the floor with a deep thud.

Bellatrix hissed, the same crazed look in her eyes as before. She aimed her wand at Hermione, then slowly dropped it to her side when Hermione flinched away. "Don't ruin my fun!"

"That's not fun, that's…" Hermione stopped when Bellatrix aimed her wand at her again. "What are you going to-?"

Wordlessly, the dark witch waved her wand and Hermione slowly lifted her fingers to touch the perfect soft skin of her cheek where the burn used to be.

"Thank you," Hermione blinked in shock.

"Don't mention it," Bellatrix said dully, then looked back to Carter who was groaning on the floor with a smirk. "What do you want to do about that, then?"

"Leave him," Hermione said, opening the log book to the most recent page.

Bella pouted. "That's no fun."

"Please can you just take us back?" Hermione asked pleadingly. Watching Bellatrix torture a man was not something that she wanted to do.

She glanced down at the page and flicked backwards through the book, doing a good job of ignoring Carter's moans.

Apparently Bellatrix was not as tolerant and Hermione looked up when the moans suddenly cut off to find that the dark witch had cast a silencing spell on him.

"I don't recognise any of the names. Once we're back, I'll look at it more thoroughly though," Hermione looked up at the other woman who was regarding the silently groaning man on the floor with pursed lips, seeming to be in her own world as she did.

"Bellatrix?" Hermione took a step forward, placing a hand on her arm when the Death Eater's name didn't pull her from her thoughts.

The physical contact did and she lifted her head to meet Hermione's eyes. She was quiet and still, so much so that it concerned the Gryffindor on an entirely new level.

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" came Bellatrix's soft reply.

"You just seemed worlds away," Hermione hadn't noticed that she hadn't taken her hand off Bellatrix's arm until the dark witch looked down at it with furrowed brows. Quickly, as if the touch might suddenly burn her, she snatched it back.

Bellatrix turned to Carter and aimed her wand at him, the word slipping off of her tongue effortlessly. "Obliviate."

Hermione watched as the man's memories of the visit today faded and the silencing spell wore off, but before he could look up and see them, Bellatrix had already grabbed Hermione's arm and apparated.

— — —

After getting back to Bellatrix's safehouse, Hermione had sat in front of the fire and was flicking through the log book. She wasn't surprised to find that most of the buyers over the past year were Bellatrix, but there were several people who had also invested in the rare flower.

Unfortunately, none of them stood out, so Hermione looked up at Bella who was sideways in her favourite armchair, legs dangling over one armrest– Hermione had now labelled this as _Bellatrix's Favourite Position in Bellatrix's Favourite Armchair_ , only to laugh internally at the innuendo– reading a book.

Only she wasn't. Hermione noticed that she hadn't turned a page since she'd opened it to begin with and her eyes were unmoving. She just stared at a point on the page and didn't look away, lost in her head again, and Hermione found herself wondering what she was thinking about.

"I can't see anyone in here I know," she sighed, casting the book aside and bringing Dumbledore's copy of _Beedle the Bard_ into her lap, running her hand over the cover.

"Is that my copy?" Bellatrix, who had just looked up from her book, eyed the brunette with an unreadable expression.

"No, I got it from Dumbledore," Hermione said, almost defensively, and Bellatrix only scoffed at the mention of the old man's name before going back to her not-reading.

"What are we going to do about the names? If I don't recognise anyone-"

Bellatrix cut her off, ending the sentence for her. "Then I guess we'll have to go and question everyone, but we've got another week left on the Veritaserum."

Hermione huffed, opening her book to the symbol again. She looked up at Bellatrix and then down at the symbol again, then she crawled across the carpet to Bellatrix's armchair, dropping the book in her lap.

Bellatrix balled her hands into fists after she had gingerly balanced her book on the top of the armchair, looking at Hermione with an unimpressed raise of her eyebrows. "Did you leave your manners at Carter's?"

Hermione, not wanting to give in and have to apologise, simply rolled her eyes and pointed to the symbol in the book that was now in the dark witch's lap. "You see this? Do you know what it means?"

"What? The Deathly Hallows?"

"The what?"

"The Deathly Hallows," Bellatrix picked up the book and motioned with her finger to the different parts of the symbol. "Elder Wand, Invisibility Cloak, Resurrection Stone. The Tale of the Three Brothers? No? Aren't you familiar with it?"

Hermione stared at where Bellatrix's chipped manicured nails had traced, eyes slightly narrowed. "I'm familiar with it but isn't it just a story?"

"Isn't there always some truth to a myth?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and couldn't help the chuckle as Hermione snatched the book back from her lap. "So eager. Why does this mean so much to you?"

"It… it doesn't. I mean, I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."

"Such a terrible liar," Bellatrix sat up properly in her armchair now, watching as Hermione went back to read the story of the three brothers again.

"I'm not a terrible liar," Hermione shuffled on the rug uneasily, sitting on her knees in front of the fire as she avoided Bella's eyes.

The Death Eater decided to let it go, smirking to herself as she continued to read. Before she could focus her mind on the novel, however, there was an odd scratching coming from the main hall.

Hermione had heard it too and both witches got up, stalking towards the hallway with their wands drawn.

Hermione was aware of the fact that she still had the Trace on her and only planned to use her wand in the most dire of circumstances. As they approached the front door– which they'd determined was the source of the noise– Hermione lowered her wand. She knew exactly what was making that noise.

Bellatrix warily opened the door and Crookshanks shot inside, and was in Hermione's arms before the dark witch could even register what had invited itself into her home.

"You found me," Hermione giggled, snuggling the cat.

"It's a sad day when muddy's part Kneazle cat can find my safehouse but the Dark Lord's most intelligent followers can't find–"

"Hey," Hermione cuddled the cat against her and laughed, "don't dis the cat."

Bellatrix regarded the two with sharp eyes. "If he gets fur on my furniture then I'll be making a coat out of him, I hope he knows."

Hermione carried Crookshanks towards the stairs, Bellatrix branching off to the sitting room. "He knows."

"He better," Bellatrix called after Hermione as the brunette took the stairs two at a time and disappeared into her room.

— — —

The following morning, Bellatrix didn't come downstairs for breakfast. Hermione had even gone to the dark witch's bedroom door, knocking, but there had been no reply. Not wanting to walk into Bellatrix's room without permission in the fear that the older woman might crucify her on the spot right then and there, she had left it and asked Tilly about it when she'd been served breakfast.

"Mistress had a difficult night last night," Tilly had whispered, placing pancakes on the table. "Anne had to stay up all night to stop Mistress from throwing anything else around her room."

Hermione had been half woken up last night many times by distant-sounding thudding or cracking noises, but she had only assumed that it was the elves. It had never crossed her mind that it was Bellatrix having a breakdown.

"Why did she have a difficult night?" Hermione's brows furrowed as she took a bite of the first pancake, unable to stop herself from smiling when she tasted them.

"Tilly is not supposed to talk about it, Anne says Mistress might get very angry with Tilly if she says anything."

Hermione didn't want Tilly to get in trouble, but she made a mental note to ask Bellatrix about it when she finally emerged.

After thanking the elf and finishing her breakfast, Hermione started browsing Bella's bookshelf again, but quickly her eyes wandered to the hallway and she felt the urge to go and explore while Bellatrix wasn't supervising her.

Hermione made her way to the kitchen door and, when she opened it, she was greeted with the smell of pancakes from breakfast and the clattering of pots and pans being washed on their own.

It was quite a small room. Against the wall to her left, there was a place to wash clothes, although it didn't look like it had been used recently. Hermione imagined that the elves used some form of magic to clean all of Bellatrix's clothes. There was a cooker and a countertop with a sink, a fridge and an oven, all only a few paces away against a wall. To her right, there was a small archway, small enough that she would have to duck to fit under it, that lead to a dimly lit room. Hermione couldn't see beyond that and she thought it must be for the elves.

Tilly came through the archway, looking shocked. "What is Miss Hermione doing here?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I'm just having a look around."

"Miss Hermione is welcome anytime."

"Do you live in there?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the room beyond the archway.

The elf nodded, smiling, gesturing for Hermione to follow. "Come and see."

Through the archway, which Hermione carefully ducked under, was a small room lit by candles. There were three small metal framed beds with sheets and blankets, two windows covered with curtains and a nightstand containing a cupboard to go with each bed.

"I've never seen elf living quarters like this," Hermione couldn't help the smile as she thought of how kind Bellatrix was to her elves.

In one of the beds, Anne was in a deep slumber, so Hermione made a point of being quiet, but she couldn't contain the small laugh. She'd always seen elves living in basements or cellars, made to sleep on shelving or the floor, so this was a nice change.

"Mistress let Tilly, Anne and Moody set up a room."

"That was… really nice of her."

Tilly nodded vigorously, her ears flapping.

After admiring the elves' room, Hermione made her way to the next room, the door having been closed so long it was stuck, but she managed to shove it hard enough to open it.

Inside there were an array of different musical instruments, some Hermione couldn't even put a name to. What really caught her attention, however, was the dusty guitar that sat in the far corner. It was on its own, not bunched with other instruments like the others, and Hermione found herself pitying it.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had picked the instrument up and was walking out of the room towards the sitting room she'd just came from. She didn't know how long Bella would be absent for and planned to make the most of her alone time.

She'd had a few lessons as a child when she had attended muggle school, but they had only been basic ones and she hadn't carried on with them. She balanced the guitar over her lap and started wiping away the dust from the body and fretboard. She was surprised to find that the instrument sounded perfectly in tune and could only imagine that a charm was keeping it that way.

Slowly, she ran her fingers over the strings. When she decided that it didn't sound too bad, she tried one of the chords she'd learnt as a child only to mess it up and make a sound similar to that of a fox screaming.

 _Not very elegant,_ she winced.

She tried again, failing, when Crookshanks appeared. He rubbed his ears on Hermione's legs, purring at her.

"Not now," she said, tickling him behind the ear once before putting her hand back on the guitar.

The more she played– rather, the more she failed to produce a decent sound– the more persistent he became. He was adamant that she needed comfort and even went to the lengths of jumping onto the sofa, which Hermione thought Bellatrix would not approve of, and crawling between Hermione and the instrument, planting himself over her lap and knocking it out of the way.

It only then dawned on Hermione, right when she was ready to boot the animal out of the house altogether, that he thought that she was crying.

Whatever noise that she was making sounded so atrocious that the animal plucked for the only explanation he deemed possible, that Hermione was upset.

She laughed at herself, putting the guitar to the side and balancing it against the sofa before she cuddled the ginger cat.

"What have you been doing down here? It sounded like you were strangling a-" Bellatrix glanced from Hermione to the guitar at her side and the cat on her lap, running her fingers through her wet curls as she narrowed her eyes. "Where did you get that?"

Hermione's eyes travelled involuntarily up and down Bellatrix's figure which was being hugged almost too tightly by a black silk robe that came down to the woman's ankles. Her feet were bare, Hermione noticed, and Bellatrix didn't seem to be wearing anything underneath the silk. Hermione's eyes lingered on the nipples that were poking out against the thin fabric from the cold, tearing her gaze away when she realised that she might have been looking for too long.

"I, uh," she blinked, "I found it."

"Mhm," Bellatrix sat down on the sofa, as far from Hermione as she could, looking down at her manicured fingernails that Hermione noticed were no longer chipped like last night. "Did you not hear me when I told you not to go wandering?"

Hermione only now saw the shadows and the eerily vacant glaze over the dark witch's eyes. Hermione wanted to ask Bellatrix about last night, but something about her demeanour was scary and she decided against it.

"I heard you, I was just curious. You were gone a while," Hermione replied hurriedly, feeling Bellatrix's gaze burn into her as her eyes flickered down to Crookshanks again.

"Don't be," was Bella's blunt reply, followed by a snappy, "and get the cat off the furniture."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** _Well... I hope you're all still with me xD_

 _Thank you DarkSnow3 for Beta reading, and thank you NotesFromTheChamber for helping me last night with planning xox_

Over the next week, Hermione didn't see much of Bellatrix. Despite not hearing anything breaking anymore, the shadows around the dark witch's eyes got darker and darker, and she spoke less and less. When she did speak and on the rare occasion that she joined Hermione for a meal, she was perfectly civil– one might even go as far as to say that she was kind– which Hermione found comforting. She knew that if she was the cause of this depression that the Death Eater was sinking into, she'd have found out about it by now.

Tilly had asked Hermione very nicely not to talk to her Mistress about her absence at least until she was better and, as much as Hermione was curious, she did as the small elf asked.

So to fill her time, Hermione had read a lot of books. She had come downstairs one morning to find Bellatrix in her favourite position in her favourite armchair, reading something Hermione didn't recognise.

Not wanting to startle the witch into leaving again, she had simply settled on the carpet by the fire where she usually liked to sit and opened the charms book she'd been reading.

"You are allowed to sit on the furniture, you know," Bellatrix's voice had sounded deeper, raspier, and she had not looked up from her page as she spoke. "Just because your cat isn't allowed, that doesn't mean you're not."

"I know, but I like it here. It's warm."

A small smile had tugged momentarily at the corner of the witch's mouth before silence fell again.

Merely half an hour later, Bellatrix had unexpectedly launched the book she was reading into the fire, standing up and storming out of the room. Hermione had jumped, not expecting the outburst.

Now, Hermione stood outside the open door to Bellatrix's potions room. She had her back turned to the door, leaning over the Veritaserum pot as she hummed to herself peacefully. The Gryffindor had never seen her look so relaxed and, instead of knocking, she quietly watched Bellatrix separate the potion into vials that she'd laid out on the worktop for herself.

"Can I help you?" Bellatrix didn't turn around and had showed no sign of knowing that Hermione was there.

Hermione jumped. "Um, I was just wondering when the potion would be ready, but…"

This time Bellatrix did turn around when she spoke, meeting Hermione's eyes for a moment before looking her up and down with a smirk. "I see Tilly got you more clothes."

Tilly had, in fact, gone shopping every day and brought Hermione back a new outfit that would go with her cloak. She had also bought Hermione a black cloak. It was lighter than the dark red one and she tended to wear it around the house a lot, since all of her other clothes had gone _mysteriously missing_.

"Yes," Hermione nodded, walking into the room. "I'm surprised that you let your elves go about and spend your money like that."

"Well I did tell her to," Bellatrix ladled another portion of the potion into a vial. "Put the stoppers on those full ones, would you?"

Hermione started putting the stoppers on the vials of Veritaserum very carefully and noticed, out of the corner of her eye, the other cauldron bubbling with what she recognised as a Sleeping Draught. "You told Tilly to get me new clothes every day? What happened to my old clothes?"

"They're safe," Bellatrix shrugged. "You'll get them back eventually. And I told Tilly to shop every day for the last week because she expressed that she was getting bored and threatened to tend to the floors again if I didn't find her something to do."

Hermione chuckled. "Well, I appreciate it, but you need to stop spending your money on me."

In all honesty, it made Hermione quite uncomfortable to have Bellatrix buy her things like that, even if it was so that she could look the part of a pureblood.

"It's not like I don't have enough of it," Bellatrix said.

"I have money, too," Hermione finished putting the stoppers on the final vials, watching as Bellatrix turned to tend to her potion.

The dark witch laughed, which Hermione found equally understanding and insulting.

"Harry left me money before he died. He gave all of his friends money."

Bellatrix looked up from the pot she was stirring, the smile gone in a second and replaced with a deep frown. "You didn't tell me about this before."

"I… didn't think it made a difference."

"It makes all the difference."

"How?" Hermione went over to the rocking chair that she spied in the corner, taking a seat now that she'd done her job.

"Because if Potter transferred money to his friends _before_ he died, that means he knew he was _going_ to die," Bellatrix said it like it was so obvious, and it was, and Hermione knew that this was the case, but she didn't know what the Death Eater's point was.

"So?"

" _So_ ," Bellatrix gritted her teeth, muttering something under her breath about sheer stupidity, "whoever killed him must've made numerous attempts at it, enough that Harry noticed but obviously not enough that he would bother anyone about it. He might've even thought he was being paranoid. God knows, being hunted since you were a baby will do that to you."

"I still don't understand what you're getting at here. I figured all that out for myself," Hermione stopped rocking in the chair as Bellatrix sauntered over and perched on the footstool, leaning in almost too close for comfort.

"Because whoever did it will likely have been in Hogwarts or will have a connection to someone there. This is big news for me, muddy. I always thought that it was someone with the Dark Lord trying to frame me. I'd prepare yourself for the possibility that it might've been a favourite teacher of yours, though," there was a joking undertone to the last part and Hermione's lips twisted into a small smile.

Bellatrix glanced at the clock on the wall, obviously waiting for something potion related judging by the impatient way she looked to the bubbling cauldron.

"Oh, I think you should know," she said, getting Hermione's attention again, "I received an owl today informing me that Voldemort has become aware that you are missing and that he suspects our alliance."

"How on earth could he figure that out?" Hermione stared, panic-stricken, at her ally.

"He is intelligent. Although, I highly doubt he knows what we have become allies for. He most probably thinks that I'm trying to switch sides, perhaps that I kidnapped you and am trying to persuade you to let me in."

"He's not far off," Hermione grumbled, leaning back in the chair.

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. "I did not kidnap you, you came willingly."

"Tell it to the judge," Hermione joked.

"Your sense of humour is embarrassing."

"You're embarrassing," Hermione shot back childishly, only making the Death Eater shake her head with a small laugh.

Hermione looked at Bellatrix's face and noticed that she no longer looked as tired. Her eyes had their usual sparkle back and there were no shadows under them. She looked beautiful, not that she hadn't looked beautiful before.

"Bella?" the Gryffindor hadn't meant to use the nickname, but her tone was so soft that it was almost as if her mouth wouldn't allow her to finish the harsh ending.

The older witch tensed at the use of the nickname, but still met Hermione's gaze.

"Muddy?" despite the use of the derogatory term, her tone was light and Hermione didn't take offence, she even smiled slightly.

"Where did you go? I've barely seen you around the house."

"I was around. I spent most of my time in the sitting room, you just never noticed me."

Hermione looked at Bellatrix in such a way that prompted an explanation.

"My animagus form," the dark witch eventually said, "is a venomous snake."

The idea that Hermione had been sharing the living room with a snake that, knowing Bellatrix, could probably kill her with one bite, was terrifying. Not to mention how undeniably creeped out the brunette now was.

 _Bellatrix has been_ watching _me?_

"Where were you?" Hermione asked.

"On top of the bookshelf. You really do read fast, don't you?"

"So you just watched me for a week from the top of your bookshelf?"

Bellatrix sighed. "You make it sound so stalker-ish. I was asleep most of the time, I find it easier to sleep as a snake sometimes, but yes I did watch you. I wanted to know if you were going to show any sign of betraying me, but you were quite boring. You just read and cuddled that bloody cat."

It made sense, Hermione supposed, and was oddly comforted that Bellatrix had gone to such lengths to make sure she was genuine. No one who was planning to betray someone spent that much time making sure that the other person wasn't going to do the same.

"But I heard you… throwing things," Hermione delicately approached the subject and watched Bella visibly stiffen at the mention of her breakdown.

"I lost my temper," she said evenly, looking down at her nails and busying herself with checking them over.

"But–"

"I don't want to talk about it," the sheer intensity of the gaze Bellatrix fixed the brunette with made Hermione cringe away.

Her mouth snapped shut and she didn't open it to say another word. Instead, she just slouched in the chair even further. She had so many questions, but she didn't want Bellatrix to get mad at her. As she had told herself before coming to the safehouse, if either of them were angry at the other it would only jeopardise their alliance.

Funnily enough, thinking of all the things Bellatrix had done in the past no longer made her angry. They made her sad, but she did not feel the burning hatred that she had felt before. The ghosts of resentment still resided in the pit of her stomach, but when she saw Bellatrix look as vulnerable as she had before, it was as if the haunted look in her eyes evoked enough pity to chase the ghosts away.

"My Animagus venom is in the potion," Bellatrix broke the silence, pulling Hermione from her thoughts. "So whoever managed to brew the potion also managed to get their hands on an Alcatrazes Lancehead."

"Is that a breed of snake?"

Bellatrix nodded.

Hermione gave one nod in return. She didn't think what type of venomous snake Bellatrix turned into made a difference, so instead of carrying on the conversation the way it was going, she changed topic and decided it was best to address the question that was hanging over both of them like a dark cloud.

"What are we going to do about Voldemort? If he knows I'm with you then surely he'll find out where we are sooner or later."

"He suspects," Bella corrected, "and he'll find us. I just hope we've found proof that I am innocent before he does."

"And if we don't?" Hermione asked.

"Then we die," Bellatrix said with a huff.

Hermione examined the dark witch's face for a long moment, but she couldn't read it. She was usually good at reading people, but Bellatrix was tricky, almost foreign.

"What if he dies first?" the question could be interpreted in a number of different ways, but Hermione knew that Bellatrix knew exactly what she meant.

"You think we should kill the Dark Lord?" Bella's tone conveyed shock to begin with but then she cackled, almost falling off the footrest. "Oh, muddy, you must be delusional!"

"I'm not, I know how to kill him."

"Do you, now?"

Hermione sat up a little straighter, trying to make herself sound as convincing as possible. "I do. He has Horcruxes."

"You think that I don't know that?" Bella snapped with raised eyebrows, her laughter only now dying down, her entire aura changing. Suddenly she was more intimidating again, more like the Bellatrix Hermione had met in the Ministry.

"You know about the diary? And the ring? And the-"

"The diary, the ring, the locket, the snake, the diadem, the cup," Bellatrix's voice was verging on playful as she ticked each Horcrux off on her fingers, voice getting louder with each one and she stood up, leaning over Hermione in the rocking chair, "but don't forget the last one!"

"What's the last one?" Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she witnessed Bellatrix's face change and her eyes glaze over exactly as they had done when she was about to cast Crucio on Carter.

"You don't know?" she sang, a smile of great delight spreading across her face.

Hermione shook her head. She hadn't known any of them beyond the diary, ring and pendant, but Bellatrix didn't need to know that. She had just been given the information she needed to bring Voldemort down and it had been as easy as…

"He doesn't even know. The Dark Lord's completely oblivious to his seventh Horcrux. It's Potter," Bellatrix's hands rested on her stomach as she laughed, "or, you know, _was_."

The sound of the dark witch's cruel cackles made Hermione feel sick and the use of past tense for Harry in such a throw-away way only worsened the feeling, to the point where Hermione thought it was necessary to run for the toilet.

As soon as she was gone, she heard Bella's laughter come to an abrupt stop and it wasn't until she was on her knees leaning over the toilet that she felt cool hands collecting the hair from around her face to hold it out of the way.

Hermione slapped the hand away, surprising herself with the harshness of the action, moving so she was leaning back agains the wall and cringing away from Bellatrix. " _Don't_ touch me!"

As comfortable as she was around Bellatrix when she was calm, Hermione hated this side of her, the side that she could see hadn't fully left yet. The Death Eater's eyes still shone with glee and Hermione knew that she was revelling in either her reaction or Harry's demise– or both.

"It's not my fault you can't handle the truth, muddy," Bellatrix folded her arms, looking down at the brunette.

"You take so much delight in the fact that he's dead, don't you?" Hermione panted, feeling like retching at the mere thought of it.

Bella's voice was calm and soft. "Yes, but ask yourself this: if the Dark Lord died, would you not take delight in that?"

"He's evil!" Hermione shouted, unable to spit out anything else.

"That's up for interpretation," Bellatrix moved back a step to sit on the edge of the bathtub, arms still folded. "He believes in a world where muggleborns and half-bloods are treated as the inferior race, where muggles are prosecuted as they have prosecuted us. He believes in purity, that anyone of impure blood does not deserve the title of a witch or wizard."

"And do you believe that? Do you believe that I don't deserve to be a witch because my parents were muggles? Should I be prosecuted for something beyond my control?" Hermione felt her face go red hot with rage as she swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat.

Bellatrix remained perfectly calm. "If you'd have asked me that a week ago, I might've said yes."

"And now?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "Now? Now, I'm not sure what I believe. You have a level of intelligence exceeding most purebloods. I even looked into your ancestry earlier this week because I was certain you were adopted but you are most definitely muggleborn. You're defying everything I believe in, Hermione, and I hate it."

Hermione had not been prepared for the use of her real name. She had gotten used to the use of 'muddy' as a form of address and had never expected Bellatrix to use anything other than the nickname– perhaps maybe her last name as she had to Tilly, but never her first name.

A quiet settled over them both as Hermione chewed on the words Bellatrix had just said and she was about to open her mouth to say something about Bellatrix having to suck it up when the dark witch met her eyes and spoke, voice quiet.

"But I can't bring myself to hate you."

Hermione finally found her feet and slowly stepped closer to Bellatrix. The dark witch's eyes flickered all over Hermione's face, trying to read her.

"Hermione, I…" she trailed off as Hermione got closer, her eyes flickering to her lips for a moment when she thought that the Gryffindor was about to kiss her.

But Hermione only enveloped her in a hug.

Bellatrix blinked, arms held out to her side in surprise. It took her a while but, eventually, she wrapped them around Hermione's waist and buried her face in the brunette's hair. Hermione felt Bellatrix's breaths become ragged and uneven, almost as if she was crying, but when she pulled away there was no sign of this on the dark witch's face.

Instead, her features were soft and the crazed glint in her eyes had been replaced with a loving one. But as soon as Hermione noticed it was there, it was gone and Bellatrix's walls were back up. Her chin tilted up and her shoulders went back as she stood.

"Bellatrix?" Hermione's eyebrows drew together as she watched the Slytherin's demeanour change almost instantly.

"Come, muddy," Bellatrix said with a sigh, "I have the address of the first buyer. We can leave tonight."

Hermione watched as Bellatrix walked away as if nothing happened and she felt tears slowly slip down her cheeks for the first time since she arrived at the safehouse.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** _Sorry my writing isn't the best with these chapters. I'm in the process of starting to move home so I am under a lot of stress. It'll get better and eventually, I'll get round to rewriting it. Just stay with me on this, okay? xD_

— — —

Hermione hadn't quite recovered from the previous encounter with Bellatrix. Bella, on the other hand, simply went about her life like it had never happened. Although every now and then, Hermione would catch her glancing in her direction the same way she had when they'd hugged, eyes so gentle and kind, but it would be gone in the time it took her to blink and she'd be left to question if it had ever been there at all.

It took them the rest of the day to start talking to each other again, since they had to converse about what would be eaten for dinner, and Hermione had attempted to make conversation by asking Bellatrix about how they intended to travel.

Much to Bellatrix's disliking, they had agreed on muggle transport, simply due to the fact that they were less likely to be spotted and– to Hermione's surprise– Bellatrix had the muggle money to pay for it. Bellatrix had said that she had a friend who could get them the buyer's address and leaflets on train and bus times, then a silence had fallen as they finished their food.

It was only once both their plates were clear that Hermione had carefully approached the matter of Bellatrix's style of dress. She had gingerly suggested that Bellatrix would be better off in some muggle clothing if they were to blend in, but the dark witch had _not_ taken it well.

"You want me to wear what?" she'd said indignantly.

"Jeans," Hermione had said again, avoiding the piercing eyes that were burning holes into her head.

Bellatrix had almost thrown her fork at the Gryffindor. She was not wearing a pair of jeans and what those muggles called a hoodie. She refused, getting up and storming up to her bedroom.

Hermione had sighed, looking down at the jeans and shirt that she was wearing. Tilly had been very accommodating towards her choice of clothing and, when Bellatrix had made her go shopping every day for Hermione, the elf had never once come back with something that Hermione could point-blank refuse to wear.

If she was honest, she liked her new clothes. They weren't always the most comfortable of things– there was a shirt that Hermione had worn that she had found horrifically itchy– but some items she could sleep in like a baby.

Despite the fact that she had not bought Hermione corsets and dresses, all her clothes barring her dark red robe were black, white or grey. This didn't surprise her and nor did it particularly bother her.

When Bellatrix finally emerged again, she had her arms folded grumpily across her chest and she wore a deep, childish frown. She was wearing jeans and a shirt, her robe thrown on over the top, and Hermione smiled happily at the Death Eater.

"They suit you."

"If you ever speak of this to anyone, I'll skin you like I'll skin that ginger cat of yours if it sheds fur on my furniture."

It was still a mystery to Hermione as to how her cat managed to get to the safehouse, but she had more pressing matters to deal with at present, so she hadn't given much thought to it.

"If you're ready," Bellatrix wrapped her robe around her small form and Hermione noticed that she somehow seemed smaller without her corset and all that black lace, "then I can take us now."

Hermione glanced at the time and then agreed. She went to pet Crookshanks and told him that they'd be back later before stepping towards Bellatrix.

— — —

Rural Sussex, Hermione found, was rather pretty with a sunset in the background. There were miles of open fields and land, sectioned off by fences or hedges. However, Bellatrix spent her time scowling at the brunette or the landscape that surrounded them.

As they stepped off the bus, Bellatrix wandlessly hexed a small fly that got too close to her face. With a zap of blue light, it dropped lightly to the ground.

A small village was waiting for them ahead, in which they were going to find their first buyer. Her name was Kimberly Jenkins and she lived in a cottage in the upper part of the village. Hermione was not looking forward to questioning the woman. It went against everything in her nature to do this, to use potions like Veritaserum on someone or to interrogate them when there's a decent chance they may be innocent, but she wanted to find Harry's killer and so did Bellatrix.

So, instead of moping, she squared her shoulders and started walking through the village, passing small grocery shops and tiny newsagents as they headed up the hill.

Bellatrix was in an odd mood. While she acted nothing but bluntly towards Hermione now, she often struggled to tear her eyes from the brunette or to focus her attention on the job at hand when Hermione walked too close, or when she brushed past her at any given moment. It left the dark witch in a daze.

The two women had both been so wrapped up in their own thoughts that they walked past the house, only to retrace their steps when they realised their mistake.

Kimberly's cottage was small and a poorly paved path lead off the road to a small driveway housing a small silver car. The main entrance to the cottage consisted of a small metal archway supporting a variety of different vines and flowers, which Hermione liked, and a black painted front door.

Bellatrix lifted her wand to cast a spell– most likely to knock the door off its hinges– but Hermione placed a hand over the dark witch's wand and gently pushed it down so it was facing the floor.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, no," Hermione glanced to the side at Bellatrix's unamused expression and matched it. "Follow my lead."

Hermione knocked and ruffled her hair slightly. It took another knock but, when a slim blonde woman in her twenties finally opened the door, Hermione just burst out crying.

"I'm sorry, I… We didn't know where else to go. My sister and I, we- we're lost!"

Bellatrix had to admit it was a good show, but the woman in front of them obviously recognised them and she didn't seem to be buying into the brunette's act. Impatiently, she all but shoved Hermione to the side and waved her wand in the blonde woman's face without a word.

The woman paused, mouth closing when she decided that whatever she was going to say was irrelevant now, and she looked to Bellatrix with empty eyes.

"Let us in," Bellatrix demanded, then reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a vial of Veritaserum, "and drink this."

The woman stepped aside, allowing them inside, before downing the potion and closing the door behind her.

The cottage opened up into a sitting room and kitchen area, which housed a couple of sofas, a small two person dining table and a rectangular coffee table. The floors were old and wooden and the off-white walls had faded cream floral patterns on them; it reminded Hermione of her grandparents' old house.

"Bellatrix!" Hermione scolded, looking at the woman who was staring adoringly at the dark witch.

"It worked, did it not?" Bella smirked as she took a seat on one of the sofas. "Come, sit. We need to ask you some questions."

After being addressed, the woman did as Bellatrix said. As she took her seat, whatever spell Bellatrix had used faded and the woman looked confused as she sat before the two very different witches. Her eyes filled with fear as she glanced at Bellatrix and they were almost pleading when she looked to Hermione.

"It's okay, we won't hurt you," Hermione said reassuringly, not helped by Bellatrix grinning wildly next to her.

"So long as you answer us," Bellatrix let out a small cackle, leaning forward towards the scared blonde woman. "You're Kimberly Jenkins?"

"Yes," the woman croaked out, her eyes filling with tears of fear as she looked at Bellatrix.

Hermione felt so sorry for her. She didn't know people would have this reaction to Bellatrix. Of course, when she had first faced the dark witch, she had been scared, but she had also been too brave to show it, too stubborn. There had been too many important things at stake for Hermione be outwardly scared by the Death Eater, so she'd just had to duel the older woman and Voldemort's other followers. Somewhere in the madness, she'd stopped being scared.

Now, Bellatrix's moods perplexed her on more occasions than they scared her.

"And am I correct in assuming that you buy Yellow Peril from Carter?" Bellatrix's voice was light, almost airy, which surprisingly made her more intimidating as she twiddled her wand in her fingertips.

"Yes," Kimberly nodded.

"What do you use it for?" Bellatrix held the blonde with a intense and unwavering gaze, fingers suddenly still on her wand.

"Medicinal uses," Kimberly hurried out the answer, tears now falling from her eyes, "I don't sleep well and it slows the heart rate and breathing. In small doses it can be used as a sedative. Please don't kill me, I'm begging you, don't kill me."

Bellatrix ignored her crying and begging, jumping to the next question. "So you're telling me you didn't use the flower to create a potion to kill Harry Potter?"

"Of course not," Kimberly fell down from the sofa onto her knees, "you have to believe me, please! I have children, a family, please don't kill me. Please don't kill me, please don't kill me, please don't kill me…"

Hermione stood and took the woman's arm by her elbow, helping her up so she was standing. "We're not going to kill you. We won't hurt you. We just wanted you to answer those questions."

Despite nodding at Hermione, Kimberly glanced uneasily back at Bellatrix who grinned widely at her.

"You know who I am don't you?" Hermione didn't let go of the blonde's arm. She was shaking so much, the brunette feared she might fall to her knees again if she did.

"You're that Granger girl, the one who helped Harry Potter before he died. I saw you in the papers. They said you dated him. I'm sorry for your loss."

Hermione could feel Bellatrix's eyes on her back and predicted the cackle before it came. She ignored it.

"I am. You can trust me, you're going to be okay."

"Muddy, stop coddling her. We're going now," Bellatrix drawled, "unless you want to make love to her, as well?"

With a small smile in the woman's direction, Hermione let go of her and turned to Bellatrix, who was already holding the front door open for her.

"What are we going to do about her? She knows we were here," she passed Bellatrix, waiting in the doorway for the Death Eater to follow her out.

But she didn't, she turned to the shaky blonde girl on the sofa and aimed her wand wordlessly, Hermione half expected the green light to shoot from the wand, but instead just the silvery light of an Obliviate lit up its tip and the woman looked drowsily down at her carpet, only snapping her head up when Bellatrix and Hermione were long gone, the door closed behind them.

— — —

They had apparated back to Bellatrix's safehouse that night. Upon popping up in the sitting room, Crookshanks had greeted Hermione by rubbing his ears on her legs. Bellatrix had not greeted the cat, instead greeting the firewhisky that was waiting for her on the dining table by grabbing the bottle's neck and popping the stopper off, pouring herself a generous glass.

"These elves know me," she smirked into the tumbler.

Hermione watched as Bellatrix shed her robe and removed her shirt, leaving her in her bra and the jeans she had worn that day. Hermione's breathing hitched as she admired the older woman and then felt a mild pang of disappointment when Bella flicked her fingers and was suddenly holding her black silk gown. She slipped it on, then slipped her jeans off from underneath and threw them happily into a pile with the shirt before slouching into her armchair with her glass of firewhisky.

Hermione's eyes hadn't left the dark witch and it was only now that Bellatrix noticed it, raising an eyebrow. "See something you like?"

Hermione hurriedly turned back to the fireplace she was sitting by, busying herself with stroking the part-Kneazle cat in her lap. "No."

Bellatrix chuckled, crossing her legs, the gown falling in such a way that exposed her thighs and a small portion of the black underwear she was wearing.

Hermione's eyes wandered again. Honestly, she had never thought of the possibility that she might be into women, but as her eyes drank in the sight of Bellatrix's legs under the silk gown, she began to reconsider.

Again, Bellatrix caught her looking. "What's wrong with you today? You keep looking at me like…"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a puppy that disappointed you," Bellatrix got up and went to refill her glass of firewhisky, which she had apparently already drank the most of. "It's as if you're _asking_ to be slapped."

Hermione forced herself to look down at Crookshanks, frowning. She didn't know where to begin explaining that she was not disappointed in Bellatrix, but in herself for finding Bellatrix attractive.

When Bellatrix returned from the dining table, she held out a second glass of firewhisky to Hermione and the young witch laughed. "No, thank you."

"You don't drink?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sixteen."

"So? Come, muddy, don't be so boring. Have a drink."

Hermione shook her head, meeting Bella's eyes. "I don't want to drink. I'm fine as I am."

A sly smile twisted Bellatrix's lips and she tilted her head to one side. "You know I could make you drink it?"

"You could probably make me do a lot of things," Hermione said without thinking. Then, realising how that might've come across, she diverted the conversation. "That was some good spell work earlier. Not an Imperius Curse, but something similar."

Bellatrix nodded. "Just a little something the Dark Lord taught me."

Hermione watched as Bellatrix downed the glass she'd poured for her and threw it behind her. Before it could hit the bookshelf, however, it vanished.

For the next couple of hours, until about 2am, Hermione sat down with travel leaflets and planned their next journey while Bellatrix made her way to the bottom of her bottle of whiskey. Unsurprisingly, the alcohol didn't take much– if any– toll on her, and Hermione could only imagine what an entire bottle of firewhisky would have done to a normal person. Instead of being on the floor like she should be, the dark witch was simply tipsy.

They hadn't said much beyond Hermione suggesting a timing and a hotel and Bellatrix grumbling in disagreement or nodding in agreement.

When Hermione had circled their timings with a pen– a muggle one, which Bellatrix had found quite fascinating– she stacked the leaflets up into a pile and put them on the dining table. Turning around, she was about to announce that she was going to bed but Bellatrix was right in front of her, mere millimetres from her face.

The look on Bellatrix's face was verging on suggestive as she reached on her tiptoes and leaned over Hermione to put her empty bottle of firewhisky on the table. Their bodies touched as they did and Hermione flinched involuntarily.

"Jumpy," Bellatrix commented.

Hermione hid her face, which she'd felt flush bright red. "I'm fine."

Bellatrix grinned wickedly, voice light and playful. "Don't you think you ought to be going to bed? Big day tomorrow, and all."

"I'm not a child," Hermione grumbled, leaving out the fact that she planned to go to bed now anyway. She would stay up all night if it meant proving Bellatrix wrong. Whether that made her very brave or very stupid, the Gryffindor didn't know.

"But you are," Bellatrix sighed airily, "so off with you, mudblood."

"What are you going to do?" Hermione sneered bitterly. "Brood on top of the bookshelf again?"

Bella's eyes went from sparkly and mischievous to dark and murderous in a second, making Hermione regret her words immediately. Without another word, all under Bellatrix's heavy gaze, Hermione left the room and headed upstairs to her bedroom.

— — —

The cold air of the early morning through her window was the one thing that finally woke Hermione up. She drowsily accepted breakfast at 5am from Tilly after only a few hours sleep, although Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen. When she finished her food, she pulled up a chair and checked on top of the bookshelf to see a snake with a black back and silvery sides, the black coming down in an arrow down its face and blending into a dark silvery grey around the nose.

"Bellatrix?" Hermione said, but the snake didn't stir. "Bella?"

Nothing.

Hermione lightly tapped her fingers on the top of the bookshelf and one of the snake's eyes flicked towards the source of the noise. It was rather scary, Hermione found, being looked at by a snake that you knew was a convicted murder.

"Bellatrix, you need to get up and have breakfast or we won't make our train."

With a huff– which Hermione found out the snake could pull off quite well– Bellatrix's body uncoiled and Hermione thought that she would somehow slide off the edge, but instead the snake wound itself around Hermione's shoulders and whispered something in Parseltongue into her ear.

"You… you want me to get down?" Hermione had not understood, but she had taken a guess. Harry had been a Parseltongue and, according to Ron, used to mutter it in his sleep a lot. Ron used to tell her about it and try to mimic what he had been able to understand from the English Harry had muttered alongside it.

The snake's head nodded next to hers and carefully, she lowered herself onto the ground from her chair with the reptile around her neck.

 _Fuck, she's heavy,_ Hermione thought, although not nearly as heavy as she would have imagined.

Once safely on the floor, the snake coiled into a tight roll again before morphing into Bellatrix's human form. She smirked, wearing the same clothes as yesterday– which Hermione had to bite her tongue to not comment on– with her robe thrown over the top, and looked Hermione up and down.

Hermione was only half dressed. She had jeans on but her shirt and robe were upstairs, so she had her silk gown on over the top.

"Perhaps I should keep you around just to lift me up and down from that shelf," Bellatrix mused.

"Perhaps you shouldn't assume I speak snake. It was a lucky guess."

Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow. " _Perhaps_ you should learn."

"I can't learn to speak it, it's hereditary and I'm muggleborn. I don't stand a chance."

"Your pathetic old Headmaster could understand it, there's no reason why you can't, too."

"But it's–" Hermione tried to say.

"Possible," Bellatrix grinned charmingly, her good mood making Hermione narrow her eyes in suspicion. "Go and get dressed, muddy," she said, then added pointedly, "or we won't make our train."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** _This chapter moves kinda fast. Again,_ _sorry my writing's kinda slipped. Stress._

 _Thank you, DarkSnow3 for beta reading and NotesFromTheChamber for the idea of Hermione temporarily becoming a window cleaner xD_

 _Also THANK YOU for all your lovely reviews. They mean the world!_

 _— — —_

Kings Cross station was busy and Hermione cringed internally every time someone walked too close to Bellatrix, worried the dark witch might lose her cool and kill whoever it was. Once they had found their platform and were waiting for their train to Exeter– where the next buyer was located, according to Bellatrix's 'friend' who Hermione still didn't know anything about– Hermione didn't stop staring at Bellatrix.

It wasn't in any way she usually looked at her, she wasn't admiring her good looks or glaring at her because of a derogatory joke the Death Eater had made. This time, Hermione was watching her for any sign that she might flip her switch and kill all the muggles in sight.

To her surprise, however, Bellatrix was perfectly calm.

"I still think you'd be able to learn Parseltongue, you know," she said conversationally to break the silence.

Hermione wasn't so sure. She knew Ron had learnt how to imitate it– albeit badly– and that Dumbledore could understand it, but she wasn't sure whether it would be as simple to do both.

"If it were that simple, wouldn't everyone be speaking it?"

"Very few people have the power and intelligence to learn such a skill," Bellatrix said lightly.

"You think I do?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. That was a big compliment coming from Bellatrix, if that had been what she meant.

"You're not exactly stupid, are you?" Bellatrix half-grumbled. "I've seen you read and understand books that my sisters couldn't understand until way beyond their final year at Hogwarts, containing theories and spellwork that The Dark Lord himself has struggled to grasp."

"I still don't think I'll be able to learn a hereditary skill," Hermione sighed. "Hereditary meaning passed down through generations, in this case magical generations, and I'm muggleborn– as you keep so kindly reminding me– which means that there is no way in Merlin's name that I could possibly have any connection to Salazar Slytherin."

Bellatrix peered down the tracks as their train approached, still leaning back on the bench with her legs crossed. "Aren't you the one who keeps going on about how blood isn't everything?"

Hermione didn't have anything to say to that. The idea that Bellatrix might've actually been listening to her go on at her about blood status not mattering in the long run was surprising. Hermione had always felt as if she were talking to a brick wall when she spoke to Bellatrix about anything close to the subject.

The memory of the time they'd hugged resurfaced and Hermione remembered Bella telling her that she had made her question everything she believed in.

 _Could Bellatrix Lestrange truly be capable of change?_

As the dark witch stood, Hermione's gaze flickered to the train and her thoughts trailed off into the distance as she began to focus on the task at hand: getting Bellatrix onto a muggle train without there being any casualties.

— — —

Upon arriving in Exeter, the two had decided to go and find a pub to get some lunch. They'd spent a couple of hours stuffing their faces, Hermione eating a burger that was frankly much too big to fit in her mouth and Bellatrix delicately eating a steak because– as she had put it so poetically before sitting at their table– she was not going to be seen by anyone eating such a _horrendous_ food.

Lunch had been quiet. The two witches hadn't talked a lot, but then again it was a rarity when they did delve deep into the realms of a conversation that could be considered anything other than superficial. Hermione did thank the dark witch and Bellatrix had just grumbled her reply as she always did when Hermione thanked her for anything.

Now, approaching the block of flats that apparently housed Andrew Thomson, their next buyer, Hermione was about to suggest pressing one of the buzzers or knocking, but Bellatrix simply whipped out her wand and used it to skilfully unlock the front door.

"Bellatrix!" Hermione gabbed her wand arm to pull the dark witch back, glancing around to be sure no muggles had seen them. "We can't just go in there like that, someone might call the police."

Bellatrix scoffed, shrugging Hermione off and walking in anyway. After a moment of watching the dark witch stalk towards the stairway, Hermione sighed exasperatedly and followed, closing the main door behind her.

The walls of the communal hallways were badly painted a dark cream, the walls having brush marks all over them, and the carpets were a very deep forest green that had greyed over time. It smelt slightly damp on the ground floor, but the further up you got the less potent the smell became.

Bellatrix seemed to be perfectly capable of taking two steps at a time for the entire eight flights of stairs without breaking a sweat. Hermione, on the other hand, had to stop to catch her breath at flight six. When she finally reached the door to Andrew's apartment, Bellatrix was already inside and Hermione ran in to find her frowning deeply at the empty apartment.

It was a studio apartment, the unmade double bed in the corner by the big window taking up the most room. The kitchen area to the left of it was small and the living area consisted of a television– which Bellatrix had narrowed her eyes at– and a sofa. Whoever had picked the furniture had decent taste; everything tied in well with the light wooden floors and plain off-white walls. There was a desk next to the bed, too, and on it was a diary.

Hermione walked over to it, examining it. She pointed to the page it was on at the messy script that had been scrawled there.

 _Drinks with John at 4pm in the Old Barrel_

 _Plans might change last minute_

"Bingo."

"Where's the Old Barrel?" Bellatrix asked, leaning over to read the note Hermione was pointing at.

"I think we passed it on our way here. It's a pub," Hermione glanced at the time and, seeing it was past 3:30pm, headed for the door. "He's probably already left, come on."

Bellatrix usually would have pulled Hermione up on the abruptness of her tone, but decided to let it go this once as they both made their way out of the building, careful to leave no trace that they'd ever been there in the first place.

— — —

It was about a twenty minute walk to the Old Barrel, including a small detour that Hermione had accidentally taken them on. Bella had said something to her about her having the directional sense of dead squirrel, but Hermione had been too focused on getting them back on track to hear.

Now, Hermione glanced nervously through a window that looked into the Old Barrel and at Bellatrix who was obviously way out of her comfort zone. She had told Hermione to go in there and attempt to question the man at the bar wearing a casual suit, glancing hastily between his watch and the door, as they were sure he was who they were looking for.

However, due to Hermione's age, there was no way she'd be getting in, which Bellatrix had huffed at. So, with a few spells and a very grim look on her face, Bellatrix made her hair fall straight down her back, running her hands through the new do with a wrinkled nose.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered.

Hermione preferred Bellatrix's curls, but she couldn't deny that the dark witch was entering an entirely new league of sexy with her hair straight. Whether Bellatrix knew that and was doing it on purpose or was simply using it as a disguise, Hermione wasn't sure.

"Stay here, don't move," the dark witch said sternly, pointing to the window before turning and walking into the Old Barrel with perhaps too much conviction.

Hermione scrabbled to look in through the window, getting an odd look from the people sitting at the table there. She grimaced, mouthing the word 'sorry' to them but continuing to look through the window anyway.

Bellatrix strutted up to the man in the suit and smiled charmingly, offering her hand out for the man to shake. Hermione couldn't hear what they were saying, but she had a rough guess as to how it was going when Bellatrix managed to sneak the Veritaserum into the drink he had just ordered himself. He had obviously offered to buy Bella one, which she had accepted.

The people in the window were starting to get angry now, so Hermione ducked away before they could draw any attention to her and went to another window.

In the next one, there sat a couple in a booth, wrapped in each other's arms and kissing.

"Ugh, why?" Hermione knew they wouldn't be seeing anything right now, so she settled at the new window and tried to get a good view of Bellatrix talking to the man.

About ten minutes later, the couple in the booth broke apart and the woman angrily slammed her hand on the window at Hermione, who jumped. She seemed to be shouting something, but Hermione couldn't hear. She instead went to the next window, but unfortunately couldn't see Bellatrix from that angle, so she hung around awkwardly in the door, peering around it every time someone opened it.

Eventually, she grew tired of being in the dark about the situation. She looked around her for a way to get inside, or at least to be able to see inside.

That was when she saw a window cleaner across the street, the back of his van open while he was up a ladder. Without a second thought, she dashed across the street and slipped into the van while the cleaner was busy. Inside, she was happy to find a bucket of soapy water and a cloth, which she grabbed before going back to the Old Barrel.

She returned to the first window she'd looked through and started wiping the windows down with the cloth, dipping it absentmindedly into the bucket every now and then. She wasn't looking at where she was cleaning, her eyes were on Bellatrix and the man.

At one point, Bellatrix looked back and found her eyes, her expression confused as she watched her scrub the same spot she'd been scrubbing for the past five minutes.

Hermione didn't know how long it had been before Bellatrix emerged, holding hands with the man. She was laughing at something he'd just said and it all looked so genuine, but Hermione knew from the very bored look in her eyes that it was all an act.

"Oh, Narcissa!" Bellatrix greeted her.

 _Narcissa? As in your sister? As in Draco's mother?_ Hermione shuddered.

Hermione decided it would be best to play along and she let Bellatrix grab her arm in her drunken show. "How are you?"

"Well, Andrew here was going to take me back to his flat," Bellatrix stumbled slightly, all part of the act. She turned to Andrew. "Cissy could come with us, you know? She can be just as much fun as I can."

The man's gaze flickered over both women appreciatively, but he shook his head, obviously trying to be a gentleman. "We shouldn't."

"But don't you want to?" Bellatrix's eyes sparkled as she looked up at him for a moment, but it wasn't with desire, it was the thrill she got from manipulating people, torturing them, playing with them.

"I do."

 _I guess the Veritaserum is still at work, then,_ Hermione thought.

"Let's bring Cissy with us," then the dark witch added, looking up at him through her eyelashes, "please?"

Hermione was out of her depth, way out of her comfort zone. She wandered what the man's reaction would be if he knew she was only sixteen. Swallowing back the bile, she played along.

"You won't regret it," she said seductively.

Bellatrix's eyes held Hermione's for a moment. The gaze was intense and ravishing, and Hermione was the one to break it, looking back to Andrew.

The man flushed a deep red when Bellatrix hung off of him like a needy puppy. "From experience, I can tell you you won't."

 _Oh, bless him, he's embarrassed,_ Hermione chuckled internally, but also felt slightly guilty for the man. After all, he had no control over what he was saying right now, providing Bellatrix asked the right questions.

"Well… why not?" he stuttered.

Bellatrix bounded with fake-joy, still clinging to the man. He lead them to a silver car, opening the doors for both of them. When they were both happily in their seats, Hermione in the back and Bellatrix in the front, he went to sit in the driver's seat.

The two witches had to make a quick escape after Bellatrix cast Obliviate. Hermione was already half way out of the car before the spell finished and Bella was hot on her heels as they power-walked towards the hotel– which was thankfully only a few minutes walk away.

Hermione didn't say a word as they checked in, only opening her mouth when they were finally in the confined space of their hotel room, two single beds in the centre of the room separated by a built-in nightstand and a table in the corner housing a kettle.

"What the hell was that?!" she exploded.

Bellatrix looked taken aback. "I was playing the part."

" _Playing the par-_ you know, there are lines, Bellatrix! That could have gone all wrong, using your sister's name like that, what if he figured out who you were? Then we'd both be-"

"He was a muggle," Bellatrix interjected, falling back down onto one of the beds. "And besides, muddy, I had to get him somewhere private to obliviate him. What were you doing anyway with that bucket and cloth while I was gone?"

"I was being a window cleaner so I could watch you and go unnoticed," Hermione mumbled.

"A what?"

"It's a muggle profession."

"Strange things, you people are," Bellatrix sat up, crossing her legs. "We ruled him out, though. He only used the ingredient for some weird colouring muggle things, he didn't kill Potter. What time did you say our train was tomorrow?"

"Ten," Hermione said, pulling out her copy of _Beedle the Bard_ and sitting on the empty bed.

"That muggle was quite the laugh," Bellatrix mused, almost to herself.

"You seemed like you really liked him," Hermione said, voice slightly bitter.

Bellatrix tilted her head to the side, examining her nails. "I liked playing with him. I was tempted to bring him home with us."

"That's disgusting, Bellatrix, I'm sixteen years old and the idea that you think I'd-"

"Oh, muddy," Bellatrix's head fell back as she laughed, "you think I'm talking about sex, don't you?"

Hermione stayed quiet as Bellatrix elegantly slid off the bed and crawled onto hers on her hands and knees, only stopping when her face was a mere few inches off of Hermione's.

"I was talking about torture."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and for a moment she felt sick, but she only found herself getting lost in Bellatrix's dark eyes and all the complex emotions they held there. Involuntarily, she found herself leaning forward until their noses were about to touch.

Everything in her told her to run, to stop, to lock herself in the bathroom and never come out, but the screaming in her head was muffled by the soothing hum that being so close to Bellatrix provided.

But before she could act on her impulses, Bellatrix was gone.

— — —

Hermione had barely slept that night. Bellatrix had spent her time sitting on her bed with a drink, only finally passing out on top of the sheets in the early hours of the morning.

When it was finally time to leave, after both of them were dressed, they left without eating breakfast, using a map to get back to the station. Bellatrix had insisted on guiding them this time and, based on how short of time they were, she plucked for a shortcut that went down an old alley.

Hermione thought it was much like the alley she had chosen to meet Bellatrix in London and was about to mention it before she heard the thudding of heavy footsteps behind them.

Not even Bellatrix was quick enough to deflect the stunning spells that came their way and the last thing Hermione remembered seeing after casting an unsuccessful _Protego_ was Bellatrix falling to the floor.

— — —

When Hermione's eyes finally struggled open, she found herself slumped in an uncomfortable wooden chair that she was tied to. When she managed to gather the strength to lift her head, she saw Bellatrix looking worriedly at her from across the room. She was not in a chair and, somehow, Bellatrix had pissed these people off enough to warrant being hung from the ceiling by her feet.

She had gone red from all the blood rushing to her head and her curls, which had returned overnight, almost touched the floor. "Hermione, we're going to die."

"If I use magic, someone will find us immediately," Hermione said, trying to restore the hope in the Death Eater's eyes, but they were just empty and cold.

"Shh, muddy," Bellatrix's voice was almost calming. "The killing curse, it doesn't hurt. You'll be okay. I–"

"Bellatrix, shut up," Hermione snapped and she started to focus all her energy on the ropes that held Bellatrix's feet.

Wandless magic was never something she had achieved, nor had she tried, but she thought that if she could just get it to work for a second, then the Trace would do the rest and someone might come to their rescue.

Fenrir Greyback walked into the wide archway of the old wooden cabin they were in, grinning to expose his grimly sharp teeth. "Bellatrix, my old friend."

"Fenrir," Bellatrix said, still proud despite her compromising position.

"I can't wait to get back to my Lord and tell him he was right. You _are_ running around with a _mudblood_."

Bellatrix chuckled. "We actually just met in the street before you arrived. Funny story, really."

Fenrir did not find her funny, he just walked over to Hermione and focused his attention on her, wand pressing into her cheek. "She's so sharp, she's got to be careful or she might cut herself one day," his voice, although deep, was airy as he slowly scraped the tip of his wand against Hermione's cheek, a deep cut forming.

Hermione bit her lip, determined not to cry.

"What do you know, hm?"

"Nothing," Hermione said steadily. "I don't know a thing."

He laughed, raising his wand to her again.

"Don't touch her!" Bellatrix hissed, violently jerking in an attempt to free herself from her restraints, but it wasn't working.

Again, while Fenrir was distracted with Bellatrix, Hermione focused on the ropes.

"Why would you care about one tiny little mudblood?"

"I don't," came Bellatrix's reply, almost too fast, "I-"

Suddenly, the ropes gave way and Bellatrix fell onto the floor, landing awkwardly on her head as she groaned in pain. Hermione smiled happily and, as if on cue, Snape burst in and fired a spell at Greyback.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** _As always, feedback means the world as I am constantly undecided about my own writing xD_

— — —

Hermione's head was spinning. Between the fighting that had just broken out and the fact that she had just accomplished wandless magic, she struggled to call for Bellatrix to untie her.

"Bellatrix, my ropes. We need to leave."

Bellatrix ignored her, untying herself and lunging for her wand. For a moment, Hermione thought that the dark witch was going to kill her, but after Fenrir had successfully blasted a potentially deadly wound into Snape's neck with a spell, Bellatrix hit him with the Cruciatus Curse.

The force behind it could be felt by Hermione from the corner of the room as Fenrir fell to the ground and his body convulsed. Hermione had never heard a grown man scream in such a way. It was sickening.

Bellatrix was in a rage, screaming the incantation over and over again, talking between each 'Crucio'.

"That'll teach you! _Crucio_! You foul creature! _Crucio_!" she cackled as he threw his head back in pain so hard his skull cracked against the floor.

As blood started to pool around his head, Bellatrix eased off on the curse and crawled on top of him, dark hair making a curtain around their faces. She whispered something to him that Hermione couldn't hear, but his face paled even more as she pulled away.

When she got up, she carefully untied Hermione and helped the Gryffindor stand. She cupped Hermione's face in her hands as she examined the cut, then gently traced her fingers over it.

It hurt and Hermione winced, but when Bellatrix let her go, there was no pain and Hermione could only feel the slightly odd feeling of scar tissue along her cheek.

"It's not a very noticeable scar, don't worry."

"Thank you," Hermione said. She looked over at Greyback's bleeding form and to the corner where Snape had been lying, but the Hogwarts Professor was gone, leaving only blood where he'd been.

Bellatrix turned to Fenrir with a cruel grin. "Do you remember what I told you?

"Yes," he croaked, eyes fluttering as unconsciousness attempted to pull him into its embrace.

"Good," Bellatrix smiled, aiming her wand again. " _Avada Kedavra_!"

Hermione gasped as she watched the dark witch perform the ultimate Unforgivable and was going to say something to her about how it had been unnecessary but– after grabbing their belongings from the rotten old wooden table by the door– Bellatrix grabbed Hermione's arm and apparated without the younger witch's permission, landing them back in the living room of the safehouse.

"I knew it!" Bellatrix immediately started in a rage.

"What?" Hermione asked, still shaking from before.

"Snape, he's a fucking traitor! He worked for Dumbledore, the–"

"He saved us, Bellatrix," Hermione stepped forwards only to quickly step back until she was pressed against the wall when Bellatrix advanced, her eyes wide with rage as she slammed her fists against the wall either side of Hermione's head.

Hermione flinched, cowering away. She wasn't prepared after the past twenty-four hours to put up with one of Bellatrix's moods and she felt her legs shake as the Death Eater stared at her.

Eventually, she dropped her hands and took a step back, voice soft when she spoke again. "Everyone will know about us working together, he'll tell them all."

"And we will deal with it," Hermione whispered, "but you can't just blame Snape for this. We're in danger because of Voldemort. We were caught today because _Voldemort_ wanted us caught."

Bellatrix's features contorted with mental pain. For a moment, Hermione thought she might finally agree to killing him, but instead she just said bluntly, "I need a drink."

There was a bottle of firewhisky on the dining table, just like before, and Hermione walked over to where Bellatrix was now standing with a tumbler, filling it up. "Pour me one?"

"I thought you didn't drink," Bellatrix didn't look up but poured her a drink anyway.

Hermione took it. "We could have died today, life's short."

"On the contrary, muddy," Bellatrix leaned back against the table, holding her tumbler in her hands as if it were a warm mug, "life is a very long time."

Hermione thought again about all those years Bellatrix had spent in Azkaban, but instead of asking her about it she took her first sip of firewhisky. She coughed as it burned her throat– but in a nice way– and Bellatrix laughed at her. Hermione just blushed in embarrassment, but took another sip, now prepared for the feeling, and smiled smugly at the witch when she didn't cough at all.

"We need to get around Him," Bellatrix stared into her glass after taking her seat in her favourite armchair.

"We can work backwards through the list?" Hermione suggested, taking her usual seat on the rug in front of the fire.

"No," Bellatrix looked thoughtfully into the fiery drink, "he'll expect that, it's something I would do. We need to stay here for a few days where we're safe until he starts to rethink things, then we'll have some time to go to the other buyers, but we will need to be careful."

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "Yeah. Okay."

"You should go to bed," Bellatrix said softly.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't want to sleep right now, not after earlier."

A smirk pulled at the corners of Bellatrix's lips. "You did wandless magic for what I only assume was the first time, you're probably exhausted. Thank you for dropping me on my head, by the way," the last part was said sarcastically and Bella almost laughed– _almost_.

Over the course of the evening, the two women sat in the sitting room, exchanging stories about their childhoods and school years. Bellatrix even listened to Hermione's muggle stories and about some of the things she'd done before Harry had died, like playing life-sized wizard chess and starting an army in the Room of Requirement.

Bellatrix told Hermione about how she had once used a Time-Turner to go back in time and beat up someone who had made fun of one of her sisters, which lead Hermione to open up about using a Time-Turner to attend all her classes in her third year.

"Why didn't you use your Time-Turner to save Potter?" Bellatrix asked, running her finger around the rim of her almost empty glass.

They had migrated to the dining table when Tilly had offered them some snacks, things like berries dipped in chocolate and biscuits that were still slightly warm from the oven, then gone back and sat on the sofa together.

Hermione's head was spinning. She had lost track of how much she'd had to drink– Bellatrix had offered to top up her glass every time she poured herself another– but she was really enjoying herself for the first time in what felt like a long time, so she decided to go with it.

"Because," she began, "going back more than a few hours is too dangerous, let alone a few days. I'm also pretty sure Time-Turners can't go back beyond several hours."

"I see," Bella nodded, although she already knew all of this, she just wanted to see whether Hermione did, too.

"I punched Draco once," a smug smile spread across Hermione's face at the memory.

"Oh really?" Bellatrix leaned forward, resting her folded arms on her knees and her chin on her arms, facing the Gryffindor. "How was it?"

"It felt really good," the brunette chuckled.

"I've never been allowed to punch him, even when he's been more annoying than usual."

"You don't like your nephew?"

Bellatrix sighed. "I like him, but he can just be so much like his father sometimes and I do not like Lucius."

"We have that much in common," Hermione raised her glass and Bellatrix tapped hers against it.

"You don't like my sister's darling husband?" Bellatrix's smile was bitter.

"He's called me a mudblood before and was always horrible to Harry before he died. I even think of him as a suspect," Hermione's brow furrowed.

"Why?"

"Because he took memories from Dumbledore's office and I think-"

"Oh you don't need to worry about that," Bellatrix waved a hand dismissively.

"No? How can you be sure?"

"Because I got him to get those memories for me."

"You-"

"Well, actually I asked Cissy and then Cissy got him to do it because he's not exactly good when it comes to anything else, is he?" Bellatrix shrugged.

Hermione nodded. "And what were the memories about?"

"Deaths," Bella sighed nostalgically, "more specifically ones I caused. Acrimony-related ones."

"Oh."

Bellatrix moved so that she was no longer sitting facing Hermione, but with her back against the back of the sofa and her feet tucked under her to keep them warm. Hermione did the same, only she let her feet dangle down onto the rug.

About half an hour later, Hermione had felt the alcohol hit her with full force. It was nice, but she hated how out of control she felt, how she felt as if she could do anything when she knew logically that she could _not_ , in fact, safely climb the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower from the outside like she'd randomly thought about doing earlier.

Turning to Bellatrix, she put her back against the arm of the sofa and crossed her legs, admiring the dark witch.

Bellatrix's eyes were glued to the flames until she felt Hermione's gaze and turned to look at her, one unruly curl falling in front of her eyes. She flinched when Hermione lifted her hand and gently moved the curl out of her face.

"Hermione, what are you…?"

Hermione didn't know what she was doing and the logical part of her brain had been silenced by the drink and the feeling of her fingertips on Bellatrix's cheek. She was working entirely on impulse, on desire.

Bellatrix saw it coming– between the way Hermione's eyes flickered to her lips and the way the Gryffindor had started to chew anxiously on the inside of her own mouth– it was obvious, but she still wasn't prepared when Hermione leaned in and placed her lips on hers.

Hermione felt as if she were in heaven. Pressing her hand flat to Bellatrix's cheek, she revelled in the warm feelings she got in her stomach and the shivers that travelled down her spine.

Initially, Bellatrix gave in. Hermione was so warm and so soft. She smelt like firewhisky and hotel rooms, and vaguely of the damp musky wood from the log cabin, but Bellatrix didn't care at first anymore than Hermione did. Hermione didn't care that she was kissing a Death Eater, a woman who had tried to kill her before and who may well try again in the future. She could barely taste the drink on the dark witch's lips past the taste on her own, but kissing Bellatrix gave her a better rush than alcohol ever could. She loved it.

Before it could go too far, the dark witch's eyes shot open and she pushed Hermione away with one hand. "Hermione, we need to stop."

Hermione's hands drunkenly fumbled for Bellatrix's waist as she leaned in for another kiss, but Bellatrix pushed her away again, holding the Gryffindor by both of her shoulders at arms-length.

"Hermione," the use of the young witch's name a second time seemed to sober her up slightly. "We can't do this, not like this."

"Bella, I-" Hermione started, but her voice was partially a slur.

"No," Bella said softly, relaxing when Hermione stopped pushing against her, stroking the Gryffindor's cheek. "We can't."

"I don't see why not," Hermione huffed.

Bellatrix leaned against the arm of the sofa, as far away as she could, and took her hand back. "You would never have said that sober."

"Tell me this isn't one-sided," Hermione edged closer, eyes boring into Bella's.

Bellatrix held the gaze for what felt like an eternity before she stood and looked down at Hermione. "I think you should go to bed."

Hermione pondered for a moment on whether or not she should fight back or do as Bellatrix said. Hermione's stubbornness wanted nothing more than to tell the older woman that she was not the boss of her and that she could do whatever she liked, but her eyelids were heavy with fatigue– as they had been for the past hour– and she nodded.

As she stood, she swayed, somehow managing to trip over her own feet. Having resigned herself to the fate of falling flat on her face, she was surprised when Bellatrix's arms looped around her waist and steadied her, pulling the Gryffindor backwards into her.

"It's okay," Bellatrix said soothingly from behind her when she let out a surprised squeak, "I've got you."

Hermione involuntarily melted into the embrace, only forcing herself to stand again when Bellatrix prompted her to.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled.

Bellatrix gave a nod, holding Hermione's arm before walking her upstairs to her bed.

As soon as Hermione's head hit the pillow, she was practically asleep. She tried to mumble an apology or a thank you, but nothing came out coherently, so instead she closed her eyes and snuggled into the soft sheets.

Bellatrix watched her for a moment before she flicked her fingers, the duvet that had been folded back to the end of the bed now laying itself over the young witch's sleepy form.

"Goodnight," Bellatrix whispered, and she turned and left, leaving the door closed behind her.

— — —

Hermione woke up to one of the worst headaches she had ever had in her entire life. The nausea washed over her in a wave when she sat up and it felt as if someone had shot an arrow between her eyes.

"I regret everything," she croaked to herself, finally finding the energy to slip out of bed.

She realised as soon as she stood that she was in the same clothes as yesterday, but she didn't care. Not bothering to change, she made her way downstairs in the hope that there would possibly be a food that she could eat without eating it, because while food seemed like the best idea, it also seemed like the worst right now.

"Good morning," Bellatrix smiled as Hermione walked into the sitting room with squinty eyes and a hand on her forehead.

 _Why does she look so darn happy with herself?_ Hermione thought bitterly, assuming Bellatrix was being smug about the fact that she was hungover.

"What happened last night?" Hermione slumped down into the armchair opposite Bellatrix's, looking at the dark witch as she lowered her book.

"What are you unclear on?" Bellatrix asked, eyes flickering up and down the woman before her, her tone playful.

"We were talking about punching Draco and then… I have no memory of anything."

Bellatrix's smile fell and her expression became unreadable. "Nothing? You have no memory at all?"

"Nothing, it's all just a massive black hole until I woke up in my bed. How did I get there? What did I do?"

"Nothing, muddy," she said with a shrug, not looking back up to meet Hermione's gaze, "you just rambled on about school and talked about Potter until you were too tired, then you said you were going to bed and I helped you upstairs. You were quite unentertaining, but nothing's new there."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Bellatrix, laughing to herself, but Bellatrix didn't rise to it, she just continued to read her book and didn't say a word.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** _As always your reviews make my shitty days less shitty :3 thank you, humans xox_

Bellatrix had spoken little to Hermione over the next few days, only uttering words of agree or disagreement whenever Hermione communicated with her about travel plans. If Hermione didn't know any better, she would have thought that the dark witch was angry with her.

Her confusion came from the fact that every other time Bellatrix had been angry, Hermione had been the first to know about it.

It was only when they were on the train on their way to Plymouth, home to the second to last buyer on the list, that Bellatrix started a real conversation.

"I don't like Plymouth."

"Why not?" Hermione had asked, tearing her gaze from the miles and miles of open fields to look at the older woman in her muggle clothes.

"Because I know the types of Death Eaters that frequent it," she said with a grim expression.

"There are Death Eaters in Plymouth?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, getting odd looks from the other passengers as she raised her voice in surprise.

"Yes," Bellatrix nodded, leaning on the table they were sitting across from one another at.

"Why?"

"Your reaction is answer enough," Bellatrix shrugged dismissively.

Hermione gave a nod. She supposed Bellatrix was right. If Death Eaters hid in places people least expected to find them, of course they'd be safer from the Order.

Not for the first time, Hermione started thinking about all the things she knew. With the information she had, the Order would surely be able to defeat Voldemort and put an end to the war. Hermione knew that she couldn't tell them all now– she needed to stay quiet while she was on the run– but there was something else holding her back, something telling her to wait. After all, knowledge was power and she might be able to use it later on.

 _When did I start thinking like this?_ she frowned.

— — —

The journey from the train to the buyer's house felt long. They had to get a bus from the station for half an hour which dropped them off with a twenty minute walk to go. Bellatrix had muttered about inconvenience a few times, but Hermione had learnt to ignore her mutterings a while ago.

They both sighed with relief when they approached Malcolm Lloyd's front door.

Judging by the looks of his property, he was a very wealthy wizard. Not only was it reasonably well hidden, but it was also incredibly beautiful. The stone was hugged tightly by vines that seemed to move on their own accord, windows framed perfectly by ivy. The perfectly polished wooden front door was pleasing to look at in itself and Hermione looked at it in awe as Bellatrix knocked.

A man answered, probably in his forties although he had excessively greying hair that would suggest otherwise, and he laughed loudly as soon as he laid eyes on Bellatrix.

"Well, well, well," he said tantalisingly, and Hermione saw Bellatrix stiffen, "if it isn't Rod's little bitch."

"I knew your name sounded familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it, I… Wait, what did you just call me?" Bellatrix did not sound impressed and Hermione didn't realise she'd been holding her breath in anticipation of the dark witch's violent reaction until she exhaled deeply and her lungs screamed for more oxygen.

Hermione cut in gingerly. "I'm sorry, have you two met?"

"This is Malcolm Lloyd, a childhood friend of my darling husband's. Part-time importer of illegal substances, full-time asshole."

 _Illegal substances?_

Hermione raised her eyebrows, looking from Bellatrix to Malcolm with a hit of a humorous smile on her lips. "Well, it's a _pleasure_ to meet you."

"It is?" he asked and it took Hermione a moment to realise that he was being serious.

Hermione couldn't contain the chuckle. "Wow…"

Bellatrix gave a nod. "Rodolphus is worse."

"What do you want?" Malcolm asked irritably.

The two witches turned their attention back to the man in front of them. Hermione let Bellatrix handle the situation, since the dark witch was so good at getting people to do what she wanted, but she wasn't expecting Bella to approach the subject so blatantly.

"We need you to honestly answer some questions for us. You can either take Veritaserum or I can torture it out of you. One of these is quick and painless for you and the other is just all the more fun for me. Take your pick."

He laughed. "You're not going to torture m-"

Hermione barely had time to blink before he was on the floor under the influence of the Cruciatus Curse. While she'd seen it done before on Fenrir, this was completely different. Fenrir had hurt them. This man merely used his words and– as much as Hermione had fantasised about using a spell she'd learnt in her fourth year to tie his tongue in an undoable knot– they were just _words_. It did not warrant such a horrible curse.

"Bellatrix, stop," Hermione said as the dark witch dragged his struggling body into the hall of the expensive marble-floored house.

"But this is so much fun!" Bellatrix cackled. " _Crucio_ ," she said in a blasé tone, aiming her wand elegantly at Malcolm.

He coiled in pain but didn't scream.

Bellatrix continued to laugh. "Oh, you're in for it Malcolm. You've had it coming since my fifth year, you filthy pig. _Crucio_."

Bellatrix's delighted laughs made Hermione think of a toddler playing hide and seek. There was so much joy, so much pleasure, but it was mixed in with something dark, something Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on.

Bellatrix fell deeper and deeper into a craze the more she used her favourite Unforgivable. It didn't take long for the red mist to cloud her vision and suddenly, it was only her and Malcolm on the receiving end of a mixture of curses and hexes, all meant to maim and cause pain beyond any person's imagination.

She was so wrapped up in it that the voice from behind her didn't register and the hand on her arm felt like no one's in particular, so she whirled around and maliciously hissed at the brunette that had approached her, casting the Cruciatus Curse once more, this time with a new target.

The pain was like nothing Hermione had ever experienced. It was both a white hot poker stabbing every inch of her body and a throbbing pain that would come and go in waves, making her body convulse. The scream that rippled from her lips barely touched her own ears. All her senses were screaming pain. Touch, sight, sound, smell, taste…

But then it was gone and there was only a dull ache where the pain used to be.

The sound of a wand clattering to the floor forced her to open her eyes and she saw Bellatrix, the source of the cruse that had hit her so viciously, staring down at her with panic-stricken eyes and empty hands.

From behind the dark witch, Hermione could hear the victim to the other curse moan in pain, but he wasn't getting up anytime soon. Bellatrix wouldn't have been able to tear her gaze away from Hermione regardless, her eyes still wide as they searched Hermione's face for any kind of hatred. What she found there, however, was worse.

It was fear.

The only thing that broke the two witches from their staring contest was the sound of shoes on the floor and a male voice that echoed throughout the hall.

"Well, this is unexpected."

Hermione had never seen Bellatrix lunge for her wand so fast. The dark object in her hands before Rodolphus Lestrange could even draw his.

As soon as he walked in, he locked eyes antagonistically with Bellatrix. "How are you, darling?"

"I was doing just fine until about three seconds ago. Some idiot decided to turn up uninvited. How did you find me, anyway?" Bellatrix's voice was laced with malice.

Hermione stayed exactly where she had been on the floor, watching as the husband and wife in front of her conversed in a hostile manner.

"Oh, this is just a happy accident," he chirped, clapping his hands together excitedly. "I was coming here to see my dear friend Malcolm and here you are– just _look_ at him Bella, he's a mess."

Rodolphus didn't seem to be showing much interest in his dying friend and, while Bellatrix and Rodolphus' domestic escalated, Hermione took the opportunity to shuffle over to the man.

She held out a vial of Veritaserum to him. "Take this, then you will get this."

Malcolm eyed the healing potion she was holding within view before managing a nod. Hermione helped him take the Veritaserum, followed by the healing potion, questioning him about Harry whilst Bellatrix and Rodolphus' dispute became violent.

The married couple flung curse after curse at one another, Bellatrix not getting hit once and Rodolphus being catapulted onto the floor a handful of times. Hermione had to admit, he was resilient. Not once did he stay down.

Once Hermione had managed to get the information she needed out of Malcolm, who was still looking a little worse for wear, one of Rodolphus' curses flew right past the brunette's head and hit the wall behind her. She let out a yelp, drawing attention to herself, as Bellatrix got shoved backwards onto her back by what Hermione assumed was some form of a knock-back jinx.

Rodolphus's cruel smile spread wide and, while Bellatrix pulled herself up onto her feet again, Rodolphus aimed his wand at Hermione. "You. Why is she interested in following you, hm? You filthy mudblood."

Hermione slowly backed away from him. Bellatrix was standing behind him with her wand pointed at his back, watching him carefully.

 _Do it, Bellatrix,_ Hermione thought. _Knock him out, disarm him, anything!_

But she just stood there and stared helplessly at Hermione, mouthing the word 'lie' over and over again.

"She's not following me, I'm following her," Hermione said as evenly as her shaky voice would allow.

Rodolphus laughed. "Why?"

"Because I think she killed Harry," Hermione stuttered.

He nodded, still chuckling. It was rather chilling, Hermione thought. She didn't think for a second that Bellatrix would be scared of him but she certainly was.

"You're lying," he pointed his wand at her and Bellatrix visibly stiffened. "You're _lying_!"

Bellatrix's Stupefy hit him after he managed to cast a hex. The hex landed right in the middle of Hermione's chest and knocked her backwards against the wall where she slowly slid down to the floor, unable to take a breath.

She didn't see what happened next, the world around her simply going dark. The pain that originated in the place of impact quickly radiated throughout her entire body and before she knew it there were warm arms wrapped around her as she felt the tugging sensation of being pulled into side-long apparition.

— — —

Bellatrix sat in the desk chair she had pulled up to the bed in Hermione's room, watching her as she slowly started to come around from the long healing process that had occurred over the past few hours.

The dark witch had spent all her time– with a wand and without– gently fixing the damage that her husband had caused, losing her rag with the elves when they had refused to back off and wanted to help. She'd shouted at them and now the house was deadly quiet. She reminded herself to talk to Tilly later, to make sure it had all blown over.

The first thing Hermione felt was the weight on her chest, almost like someone was sitting on her, but when she opened her eyes she found that she was merely covered with a bedsheets and dressed in her robes.

When her eyes wandered to the left, she saw Bellatrix staring at her from the chair and a chill went through her. Bellatrix had tortured her.

"How are you feeling?" Bellatrix asked. She seemed to have aged a good ten years over the last few hours.

Hermione put this down to tiredness. "You used the Cruciatus Curse on me."

Bellatrix exhaled, closing her eyes as she focused on her breathing. "I did," she managed without opening her eyes.

"Why?" Hermione didn't dare move, her body still aching from the hex she had been subjected to.

Bellatrix's eyelids finally flickered open and she fixed Hermione with desperate eyes. "I didn't know it was you."

"How on earth did you-"

"I lost it," Bellatrix's voice was so small, so broken. Hermione had never seen this side of the dark witch before, just when she was starting to think she had seen it all. "I didn't mean to do that to you, believe me when I say that I didn't _want_ to do that to you."

Hermione shook her head as much as her body would allow only to wince.

In a second, Bellatrix's hands were on her arm, her eyes landing on the spot on Hermione's chest where the hex had hit, and she looked the girl's hands over– which Hermione assumed was something to do with the hex or healing.

But Hermione snatched her hands back. "Don't touch me," she couldn't help tears forming in her eyes and her voice breaking.

When she finally looked up to Bellatrix's face, a look of distraught stared back at her and she felt guilty.

I _feel guilty?_ she hissed internally. _She_ tortured _me!_

"We are going to continue until we find Harry's killer, then we are going to kill them and you and I will go our separate ways. I never want to see you again after this."

Bellatrix's face contorted with pain as she gave a short nod. "I understand." Then, she seemed to collect herself, standing up straight and gesturing to a deep red vial on the nightstand. "Take that when you get up. It's the last part of the healing process. After taking it, you should feel fine in a few hours."

Hermione watched as Bellatrix left, not bothering to close the door behind her as she turned left and disappeared from view. Hermione heard the soft opening and close of the dark witch's bedroom door shortly after and she knew she was alone.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she thought about the deranged look in Bellatrix's eyes, her wild hair falling in front of her face as she whirled around and hissed the incantation at her so easily. She didn't know why it hurt her so much, why she felt so betrayed.

Realistically, what had she been expecting? It was Bellatrix. Was she expecting to become Bellatrix's best friend, to stay in touch with her after all of this was done? To visit her in her holidays to catch up? Of course not!

But her heart ached when she thought about walking away, about never coming back.

 _There are more important things going on right now,_ she reminded herself, before she slowly reached for the potion and downed it.

It tasted like strawberries and Hermione licked her lips afterwards, instantly feeling better and enjoying the taste. She found that she could now comfortably sit up, albeit slowly, and she managed to make her way downstairs, asking Tilly to get Moody to cook her some pancakes.

The small elf had agreed, saying nothing else, before she was gone.

Hermione waited at the dining table and, shortly after taking her seat, Bellatrix joined her.

The pain in her chest welled again as she eyed the dark witch's reserved expression. Sometimes, she wished she could read Bella's mind. It would make things so much easier if she could just understand what went on inside her head.

 _She didn't mean to hurt you._

The same voice kept popping up, shoving its way to the front of Hermione's thoughts every time she managed to batter it away. A part of her didn't doubt Bellatrix hadn't meant to hurt her, but another part was reluctant to believe anything other than that the Death Eater's intent had been malicious.

Bellatrix broke the silence, making Hermione jump. "Rodolphus and Malcolm are a problem now. The Dark Lord will know what we're doing, he'll know what we've done. It's only a matter of time before he finds us."

"Who's the next buyer?" Hermione asked. She didn't want to think about Voldemort right now.

"Carline Woods from Stirling in Scotland."

"That's a long train journey," Hermione mumbled under her breath.

Bellatrix nodded. "And there's no guarantee that she'll be the killer."

Hermione sighed. "Well, we can leave first thing in the morning."

As Hermione finished speaking, an owl flew in through the open window, dropping a letter into Hermione's lap. She looked at her name scribbled on the front, instantly recognising Ron's handwriting. It made her smile, considering the past twenty-four hours, and she opened it.

She was expecting him to at least ask her how she was, to tell her that he missed her, but it was only a handful of words scrawled down in the middle of the page, signed with an 'R' at the bottom.

"Oh my…"

"What?" Bellatrix prompted.

Hermione looked up, holding Bellatrix with a panicked look. "Voldemort has taken over the Ministry."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** _So it appears I've got some making up to do. Allow me to start._

Follow me on Tumblr for writing updates, drabbles and more :) type-writes My asks are open, so you can make requests.

— — —

Hermione had never had Bellatrix be so civil to her. Not only had the dark witch eased off on her snarky retorts but she had also stopped making fun of Hermione altogether. Whenever they spoke, it was always quick and clinical.

Hermione had to admit that she missed the old Bellatrix, the ongoing banter the two witches used to have. Now, it was like being around a robot.

However, recognising that she did make it clear that she wanted nothing else from Bellatrix before, Hermione wasn't in the position to say anything, so when they finally reached Sterling, Scotland, they both felt relief wash over them.

The woman they were going to see was named Carline Woods and, as they stepped towards her front door, Hermione groaned.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Crystal balls lined the windows, pendants and pentagrams decorating the shelving. Hermione knew exactly what type of a shop she was walking into.

Inside, there were shelves lining the walls, home to things like incense and wooden carvings. Everything smelt of musk and the pine incense that was being burnt at the counter.

"Oh," the woman behind the counter was in her sixties, knitting together what looked like a scarf out of red and white wool, "this is lovely!"

Hermione had to fight not to roll her eyes, but was surprised when the woman said, "I don't get many _real_ witches in here."

"You know what we are," Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, "but you're a muggle."

She gave a nod. "One could say that, yes. You, however, are powerful. I sense a dark past. Am I wrong?"

"Not at all," Bellatrix said, almost warily.

"That's not difficult to figure out," Hermione interjected, unable to help herself, "I mean, look at her."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at the brunette. "Excuse you."

"She has quite the temper," the woman spoke to Hermione about Bellatrix as if the dark witch wasn't in the room, "so many demons, but then again, so do you."

Hermione did rolled her eyes this time.

"You think I'm a joke," the woman said it like it was a fact, and it was.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't believe in it. The future can always change, tree leaves don't decide our fates, we do. Knowing what the dregs in a teacup said and then believing it only puts you on that course of life because it's what you expect, so subconsciously it's what you do."

The woman gave one nod. "And what of you coming to see me? I'll have you know I won't be taking any type of truth serum today. I react terribly to potions. You'll have to take my word for it."

Hermione's jaw dropped and Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at the woman. "You knew we were going to try and use Veritaserum on you. How?"

"Because I saw it."

"Yeah, right," Hermione scoffed. "Why should we trust you?"

"I sense a lot of negative energy between you two, have you been fighting?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Oh, Merlin. Yes, actually, she cast the Cruciatus Curse on me. To a muggle like yourself, that's a torture curse."

A smirk tugged at the corners of the woman's lips, making the corners of her eyes wrinkle. "You're going to be very happy together."

Hermione laughed out loud and turned to Bellatrix. "Do you hear this? Apparently we're going to be very happy togeth- Bellatrix, what are you doing?"

"What is this?" Bellatrix was looking with hurt-filled eyes into a mirror that was at the end of a short narrow corridor behind the counter, its glass surface swirling with a black and grey mist.

"It shows us our most precious moments, the time in our lives that we hold the most dear. I inherited it off of a friend when he died."

Hermione saw tears welling in Bellatrix's eyes and, surprised at the dark witch's reaction, couldn't resist the temptation to view her own precious memory.

Of course, she'd been expecting to see Harry and Ron or her parents, possibly a moment from school, but what she really saw shocked her.

She saw Bellatrix sitting next to her on the sofa and she saw their lips meet, and it was as if the drunken memory had never left.

She remembered Bellatrix helping her upstairs, catching her when she fell. She remembered how soft Bellatrix's lips were, how she'd pushed her away and said she hadn't wanted it to happen like this. Not _not at all_ but _like this_ , when she was drunk.

Had Bellatrix wanted it to happen another time?

 _Tell me this isn't one-sided,_ her own voice echoed in her head but Bellatrix's reply had never come.

Of course, Hermione was attracted to Bellatrix– a blind man could probably see it– but it had taken her being drunk to accept it to herself, let alone anyone else.

Hermione worried for a moment that Bellatrix might be able to see this memory of hers in the mirror, but she hadn't been able to see Bellatrix's memory so it didn't make sense for Bellatrix to have been able to see hers.

"Now that is rare," the woman's voice came from behind them and they both turned suddenly, blinking away tears that had formed in their eyes.

 _Had Bellatrix been crying?_ Hermione thought.

"Look, we don't care about your voodoo creepy crap," Bellatrix snapped. "We need you to answer our questions honestly and if I get the feeling that you're so much as thinking of lying to us, I'll show you what that torture curse is all about."

"Temper, temper," the woman stepped behind her counter again dismissively. "I'll answer you honestly."

"Why did you buy Yellow Peril from Carter?" Hermione asked, stepping forward after she'd composed herself.

Her head was spinning, the memory playing in her head over and over again. She kept thinking of Bellatrix's face the morning after, how she'd seemed so playful, and how quickly the mood had fallen when the brunette had said she didn't remember the night before.

"Because I sell a powdered herbal mix in my shop, used for things like incense, and it includes Yellow Peril. I'd usually buy it from my other supplier, but unfortunately someone bought out his stock, at least that's what he told me."

Bellatrix and Hermione looked to each other, then back to the woman.

"You're saying there's another supplier? With a whole new customer base? Here in Scotland?" Bellatrix looked just about ready to throw herself off a cliff.

 _No way are we starting all over again,_ Hermione growled internally.

"Even better, he's in Stirling. I was originally his only customer, though. I don't know what went wrong. All he told me was that some tall fella came and offered him a good price, told me he'd make it up to me next delivery. I hope he stays true to his word, my profits have gone down dramatically since then," the woman grumbled.

"We're going to need his name and address, please," Hermione said.

There was a paused as the woman considered it. "Fine," she finally settled, taking a piece of paper and a pen from the drawer in her counter.

Bellatrix was handed a piece of paper with a name and address written on it.

"Tell him Carline sent you. He's not very trusting, but if he knows you know me, he should be okay."

— — —

With this new-found information, the two witches had chosen a hotel to stay in so that they could go and see the second supplier. Surprisingly, however, her best friend's death wasn't the thing that was taking up Hermione's attention.

She hadn't stopped thinking about her kiss with Bellatrix since she had remembered it, and as she looked at the dark witch who was sitting in a chair looking out over the Scottish hills, she couldn't help but notice the empty look in her eyes and she wondered whether Bellatrix might've seen the same thing in the mirror.

 _Don't be silly,_ the brunette thought, _she doesn't think of you like that. You're just a teenager with some silly teenaged crush. Bellatrix is a grown up, she'd never see you like that._

"What did you see?" Hermione asked, then clarified when Bellatrix looked over at her questioningly. "In the mirror, that is."

Bellatrix turned back to the window. "That's none of your business."

"Was it me?" Hermione prided herself in her bravery– she was, after all, a Gryffindor– but it still surprised her how easily the question had come out.

"What would ever make you think that I'd seen you in the mirror?" Bellatrix's words were harsh but there was an soft undertone to them.

Hermione stayed quiet, shrugging slightly despite Bellatrix not seeing it. Slowly she moved from the bed she was sitting on and walked over to the window where Bellatrix was sitting.

The hotel room was small, the windows making up most of the back wall, massive red and gold drapes held back with ties to the side. The walls matched and the carpets were grey, making the hotel seem just as old as it probably was.

"Because…" Hermione started and she tried desperately to search for a way to say that she remembered, but there was nothing that came to mind.

"Spit it out, muddy, I don't want to be here all night."

The bitterness in the dark witch's tone made Hermione think about being under the Cruciatus Curse and she wondered yet again why she wasn't angry at Bellatrix for doing something so horrible to her. Instead, she was only upset and might even go as far as to say that she felt betrayed.

"I remember," Hermione managed and Bellatrix slowly lifted her eyes to meet Hermione's, turning her head.

"You remember what?"

"I remember kissing you," Hermione whispered and her gaze fell to the floor as her cheeks flushed. "I… didn't know how I felt until I saw it in the mirror and–"

The brunette didn't have the chance to finish. Without warning, Bellatrix grabbed Hermione gently by her hips and pulled her down into her lap. Hermione yelped at the sudden movement, but quickly braced her hands either side of Bella's head as she was being pulled and placed one knee either side of Bella's waist, comfortably straddling the Death Eater as delicate hands cupped her face.

"You're sober, right?" Bellatrix asked, a playful smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth, despite the seriousness of her words.

Hermione nodded, her heart fluttering.

"Are you sure?" Bellatrix teased, but her eyes were so severe and desperate. It was as if she were waiting for disappointment, for Hermione to tell her that she'd been secretly sipping firewhisky since they'd arrived at the hotel. "Because you look a little dazed."

Hermione nodded, unable to avoid her cheeks going a deep red. _I wonder why,_ she'd wanted to say, but the words never made it out.

Slowly, as if Hermione were the most fragile thing in the world, Bellatrix leaned forward and kissed her.

Hermione felt butterflies swarm her stomach and her hands found their way around the back of Bella's neck. The feeling of Bellatrix's hands holding her face made Hermione feel the safest she'd felt in her entire life and warmth spread through her within seconds.

Her thoughts went all hazy and she felt herself melting into the dark witch.

The kiss deepened and Bellatrix's fingers trailed down past Hermione's jaw, down her neck, until then found her waist and Hermione felt Bella firmly hold her there as if she was scared that the Gryffindor might run away.

Hermione wasn't going anywhere. Even if she'd wanted to get up, there was no way her brain would have been able to see past the fog to get her body to move.

Hermione didn't realise she'd deepened the kiss before she felt Bellatrix smile against her lips, the Slytherin carefully taking the Gryffindor's bottom lip between her teeth.

Hermione giggled, leaning back in for more when Bellatrix released her.

But Bellatrix pushed her away enough so that she could see her face, the dark witch admiring her with a new sadness to her smile.

"What are you doing, Hermione?"

"You know exactly what I'm doing," Hermione said, although she knew the question was less literal and more general, more like, _What are you doing having any types of feelings for someone like me?_

"No," Bellatrix shook her head. "I thought you didn't want anything to do with me since I…"

Bellatrix didn't say it and it was in that moment, when Hermione saw the conflict in the dark eyes that stared back at her, that she realised just how much Bella regretted casting the Cruciatus Curse on her that day.

"I forgive you," Hermione said, and she did. There was no way she would– or could– ever forget, but she forgave Bellatrix for what she'd done. If she was honest, she'd forgiven the witch the moment she'd even cast the curse, but she had still been hurt and that had made her hostile.

Hermione saw the weight leave Bellatrix's shoulders and the dark-haired witch leaned in again, this kiss deeper and more demanding than the last, not that Hermione would have had it any other way.

Her back arched as Bella's hand rested on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The Death Eater's other hand slid up Hermione's thigh, making the young witch's breathing hitch.

"I didn't know you were that easy," Bellatrix taunted, lips moving to Hermione's ear.

Hermione thought back to the time that Bellatrix had held her against the wall in her safehouse and she felt heat pool in her lower stomach. She hummed against Bella's hair.

"Easy, darling," Bellatrix whispered.

Hermione pulled away, hand still against Bellatrix's cheek and the other around the back of Bella's neck. "Are you going to spend the rest of the night taunting and teasing me over wanting a kiss or are you going to get on with it and just _kiss_ me?"

"There's that Gryffindor bravery. What happened to me disgusting you, hm? Weren't those your words when we met?"

"Things change," Hermione shrugged. "Since when were you okay with a mudblood sitting on your lap, _hm_?"

"Things change," Bellatrix retorted. "Although, I have to admit that you are the _only_ exception. If any other muggle-born tried to sit on me I'd probably have them killed before they could draw their next breath."

Hermione smiled, the sound of Bellatrix using the term "muggle-born" echoing over and over in her head.

The brunette knew that whatever this was with Bellatrix, it likely couldn't and wouldn't stretch beyond their alliance– after all, how could it? They were two very different people– but for now, she melted into Bellatrix's embrace, enjoying all the comfort the Slytherin's touch had to offer.

— — —

Hermione woke up the next morning in the bed which had been assigned to Bellatrix. The dark witch wasn't in the bed with her, but it was clear after Hermione glanced over at the other undisturbed bed in the room that she had been not long ago.

Her shirt was still hanging off of the chair that they had kissed on last night but her jeans and her bra were still on. As she stirred, Bellatrix emerged from the bathroom, her hair dry and a towel wrapped around her body. Her wand was in her hand and Hermione assumed that she'd used it to dry her hair after her shower.

When she spied Hermione, she smiled mischievously. "You're awake. Good."

Hermione was glad that Bellatrix's tone with her hadn't changed. She was still abrupt, snarky and still acted like she was far superior. Oddly enough, Hermione found it comforting.

"Sort of," Hermione said groggily.

Bellatrix walked to the edge of the bed and slowly started to crawl on top of Hermione, her towel falling from around her as she did, but she was pressed against Hermione enough that the young witch couldn't see much.

"Allow me to wake you up."

Hermione closed her eyes, falling back onto her pillow as Bellatrix's tongue flicked over her neck.

"I trust you actually remember our last kiss this time?" Bellatrix mumbled against Hermione's skin.

Hermione nodded, her hands finding Bellatrix's bare back. Slowly, she slipped her hand around to Bellatrix's tummy and then up until she found one of Bellatrix's nipples and she pinched it gingerly between her fingers.

"Don't start something you can't finish," Bellatrix pulled away, sliding back down the way she came.

Hermione watched the naked witch with want as she picked up her wand from where she'd put it down and fashioned herself a muggle outfit for the day. Hermione looked at her disappointedly.

"Don't be such a hormonal teenager, we have work to do," Bellatrix said, now serious. "Don't forget what our goal is."

Hermione sighed. Bella was right, after all. She did let her hormones take over, which logically she knew _was_ a teenager thing. But what she wouldn't do for just one more kiss…

"Come," Bellatrix threw Hermione's shirt at her and the brunette caught it. "Get dressed."

 _And she still talks to me like one of her elves,_ the thought was more bitter than Hermione had meant it to be.

Regardless, Hermione got out of bed and took her shirt into the bathroom with her.

After she had emerged in her clothes after a quick shower, her outfit as clean as she could get it without spells, they had headed to the address that Carline had given them.

It lead them to a small battered cottage on a slope, the foundations crumbling and the exterior of the cottage itself not looking much better.

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose as they approached. "This is unfortunate."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Bellatrix's attitude and knocked on the door. She didn't know how this was going to go, after all, they had no potion that would be able to help them and, if reasoning failed, Hermione knew she would have to watch Bellatrix perform the Cruciatus Curse again and, after what happened before, she wasn't sure she could deal with that.

A man opened the door and Bellatrix let out a hiss.

"I think not," the aged man shook his head, "absolutely fucking not!"

"How many people have you pissed off?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix shook her head, eyes never leaving the man in front of them. "If I was counting that might imply that I cared."

"Get off o' my property," Hermione was surprised to hear that he sounded almost American, the accent obviously having faded over time. "I made myself clear. I never wanted to see your face ever again!"

"We just need to ask you a few questions," Bellatrix sounded calm, surprising considering she was being shouted at.

"Who is he?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Hermione," Bellatrix smirked antagonistically, "let me introduce you to Willis Arnold, he used to the Dark Lord's second hand… that was, before I took his place."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** _Next chapter will be cute, that's a promise._

— — —

Hermione found that, since meeting Bellatrix, she was progressively beginning to question her life choices more and more each day when she landed herself in odd situations.

This– as she sat awkwardly next to Bellatrix on a sofa as an elf poured her, Bella and Willis Arnold a cup of tea in silence– was definitely one of those situations.

How on earth they had ended up civilly sitting across from one another, Hermione wasn't entirely sure. After Bellatrix revealed that Willis was Voldemort's last Second, everything had turned into a bit of a blur. There had been a lot of shouting, a lot of threats and a lot of petty wand-waving, but no one had gotten hurt and Willis had eventually invited them inside with reluctance for some tea.

So here they were.

"We understand that you've started supplying Yellow Peril?" Bellatrix asked, holding a teacup tensely.

He nodded. "I s'pose. But I only supply it to that one woman who has her shop. I saw an easy way to make some money and I took it."

"But someone else bought your stock, didn't they?" Hermione piped up, only to wish she hadn't.

"You have no business talking to me, _mudblood_!" Willis snapped.

Bellatrix hissed from where she was sitting next to Hermione and the brunette could swear she felt Bellatrix shift as if she was going to lunge at him. "Speak to the girl again and I'll make sure it's the last thing you ever say."

"Look," Willis sighed, "I just needed to make a buck. When you _took over_ , I was shunned. Do you know how lucky I am to have inherited my cousin's estate here? I'd be homeless by now if I hadn't."

Bellatrix didn't seem to care. "You sold Yellow Peril to someone else, who was it?"

Willis shrugged. "Tall guy, real creepy lookin'."

"Great," Hermione huffed, reaching a level of exasperated that she had never reached before, "that just about narrows it down to half of the male wizarding population and a good two thirds of the muggles, too. Would you like to take the shot in the dark, Bella, or should I?"

"Bella, is it? So you're close, that's cute," the man didn't speak to Hermione, his eyes directed at Bellatrix.

" _Familiar_ ," Bellatrix corrected and Hermione had to admit that the severity of the word hurt.

"Is that what you kids call it these days?" Willis' smirk was sickening as his eyes landed on Hermione briefly.

 _That's disgusting,_ Hermione thought as her nose wrinkled.

"Don't give me a reason to finish what you started all those years ago. You didn't stand a chance against me as a child and you certainly won't stand a chance against me now," Bellatrix's threat was heavy and a silence befell the room.

Hermione shifted awkwardly. She had never felt as out of depth as she did right now. The feud that was still evident between the witch and wizard was nothing to do with her and she felt like an awkward third wheel that one of the other wheels had decided needed to tag along for the ride.

"Do you have a name for this man that saw you?" Bellatrix asked.

"No," Willis sipped his tea. "Even if I did, why on earth would I tell you?"

"Because you would get to live another day of your pathetic excuse for a life," Bella explained with a shrug.

Willis narrowed his eyes. "Are you threatening me?"

"Not at all," Bellatrix busied herself with examining her nails while Hermione watched the two enemies converse.

"I'll give you everything I know about the man," Willis said, his tone alone implying that there was a 'but' in there, which there was, "but I want you to tell me something."

"What is it?" Bella asked.

"How are you a Parselmouth? You're not a direct descendent of Salazar and you did not just simply _learn_ to speak the language at the age of seventeen, so what was it, hm? How did you speak like Him?"

Hermione could feel Bellatrix shift uncomfortably in her seat. "I'll show you, but you then have to tell Hermione everything you know. Am I clear?"

"I give you my word. Believe it or not that means something to me," then he added bitterly, "I'm not like you."

Bellatrix chuckled before she stood, facing the man, and morphed into her animagus form. Hermione found the shocked look on Willis' face rather amusing. He watched the snake on the floor slither around, coiling into a circle by his feet.

"You learnt that at seventeen? _Lies_!"

The snake hissed and Hermione realised just how much alike a snake hiss was to when Bellatrix hissed at people as a human.

"What we came here for, please," Hermione demanded as Bellatrix slowly started to wrap herself around Hermione's leg and wriggle her way up onto the Gryffindor's shoulders.

Willis eyed the snake uneasily before turning around and going to a drawer by a desk that was near the fireplace. From it, he pulled a black leather bound book and opened it to show a seal.

It was a lot of odd swirls and patterns that Hermione couldn't make sense of to begin with, but looking at it a little closer, she could see that it was actually a lily that was embedded into the red wax.

"This is it? You didn't get a name, you didn't get anything else?" Hermione snatched the book from his hands and Bellatrix threatened to strike at him when he tried to get it back.

"That was all he gave, said he'd pay me extra for the secrecy."

Hermione looked down at the flower. No signature, just a stamp.

"I'll have my book back now," Willis said sternly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I think I'll keep it."

There was something about having Bellatrix wrapped around her like a scarf that made Hermione feel braver than she usually did. The snake whispered softly into her ear in a language she didn't understand, but which she thought was oddly familiar.

"I'm not going to ask again," Willis warned but it only made Hermione laugh, her new-found confidence giving her a rush she'd never experienced before.

"That implies that you asked the first time."

Willis' lips angrily pressed into a thin line and, for the first time, Hermione began to understand why he was ever Voldemort's right hand in the first place.

He lost his temper, not much unlike when Bellatrix did, only he seemed more calculated. Thankfully he also was a lot less powerful and that was evident in the way that Hermione was able to see him conjuring the killing curse long before he managed to cast it.

Before the green light could leave his wand, Bellatrix in her snake form had lunged at him and managed to throw him off balance enough for the stream of light to hit the wall behind her instead.

Hermione never knew how literal looking death in the eye could be, but as she'd watched the jolt of green miss her by a mere inch, she finally understood. Her heart pounded in her chest and she had to check herself before she looked over to where Bellatrix was wrapped tightly around Willis whose face was going purple from the lack of oxygen.

Hermione grabbed the log book and tucked it into her bag just as Willis managed to get his wand hand free and the brunette watched him conjure the same curse, wand aimed at the tail of the snake coiled around him.

Without thinking, Hermione withdrew her wand and fired a spell at the wall behind Willis and Bellatrix.

She aimed only to distract Willis enough so that Bellatrix could get away, unable to fire a spell at the man himself in the fear that she might hit the dark witch she had grown to care for, but she soon realised her error when the _Bombarda_ that she had fired took out a supporting beam and the ceiling started to crumble.

"Bellatrix, run!" she shouted and the snake quickly dropped to the floor, speeding over to Hermione as the entire house started to cave, the furniture from the floor above falling around Willis as he ducked and gasped for a most needed breath.

He cast another spell, it hitting the snake as Bellatrix turned back into her human form and she collapsed on the ground before she could find her feet, coughing and spluttering as if she had just inhaled a thick smoke.

The giant hole in the ceiling was progressively getting larger, the house caving in faster, and there was nothing to stop it as Hermione grabbed Bellatrix's hand.

It was only in such close proximity that she noticed the minor burns on Bellatrix's skin and Hermione wondered what spell Willis had cast on the dark witch.

She was about to apparate, but Bellatrix had already managed it and they landed in a heap on the carpet in the sitting room.

Hermione immediately went to Bellatrix, who was curled into a ball, patches of her skin red and blistered, shaking violently. Some of her clothes were stuck to a few of the minor burns and, with a second look, Hermione saw that she'd also managed to Splinch herself across her ribcage, strips of her skin missing.

"Bella," Hermione's hands hovered over the dark witch's body, not knowing where to start. "I can't heal you with magic or they'll find us…"

Bellatrix didn't reply, she just continued to shake as Hermione called for the elves.

Anne, Tilly and an elderly elf who Hermione assumed was Moody all appeared and they looked shocked when they saw Bellatrix on the floor, but Hermione didn't give them time to ask questions.

"One of you, I don't care who, get me a potion for burns, she's bound to have one up there in that fucking room of hers. Get one. _Now_!"

Anne disappeared and Tilly glanced uneasily at Bellatrix as Hermione very carefully picked up the dark witch and carried her– albeit with difficulty– up the stairs to the bathtub where Tilly helped her ready a cool bath to ease the burns. Unfortunately it wouldn't do much good to the cuts across her ribcage, but Hermione knew that she couldn't have it both ways as she did her best to remove the witch's clothes before they could stick too much to the burns.

Bellatrix dipped in and out of consciousness, her eyes never opening but her lips sometimes trembling. Sometimes she would whine uneasily as she was moved and she had even said Hermione's name as she'd been lowered into the water.

The word had been so broken, so small, and Hermione had felt tears prickle in her eyes at the sight of the older woman, looking so defeated in the water. She expected Bellatrix at least to have been fully conscious.

"Anne cannot be sure that there is such a potion for Miss Hermione to use," the elf had said after popping up next to them in the bathroom.

Hermione ran a hand through her own hair, sweeping it back with her wet hand, using her other hand to hold Bellatrix's head above the water.

"Tilly, this friend of Bella's, how trustworthy are they?"

"Very," Tilly nodded. "Mistress would trust this friend with her life."

"Bring them here, please," Hermione glanced back at Bellatrix. There was nothing she could do for her new lover except try to make her as comfortable as possible. She needed someone who could use magic, who could heal.

Hermione only wished she could do more, but apparating to a hospital was out of the question. Not only was Hermione uncomfortable with apparating Bellatrix in such a state but muggle medicine would never be able to fully heal Bellatrix's skin to the point of there being no scars and it would be such a long process just to get her to be able to move again.

She just hoped that Bellatrix's friend would arrive soon, that Tilly would find them, and they'd be able to heal the dark witch.

Hermione kept an eye on Bellatrix's temperature, constantly carefully feeling the dark witch's forehead, and when she thought Bellatrix had started getting cold, she gently lifted her out of the bath and carried her to her room.

Hermione didn't pay much attention to the room as she lay Bellatrix on the bed and covered her with a sheet, careful that it wouldn't stick to the burns. She managed to get Anne to perform some kind of a heat charm, so Bellatrix wouldn't get cold, and Hermione moved an armchair which she'd found in the corner next to the bed and sat in it, watching the shallow and uneven rise and fall of Bellatrix's chest, the only indication that the older witch was even alive, and Hermione clung to it.

"Miss Hermione should go and shower. Anne will watch Mistress and will find Miss Hermione if anything changes."

Hermione was about to say no, but instead she nodded and did as the elf had said. Regardless, she rushed her shower and dressed in the first set of pyjamas she could find, a pair of muggle pyjamas.

Quickly settling in the armchair again, Hermione realised just how dirty she had been and she revelled for a short moment in the feeling of being clean before her attention turned itself back to Bellatrix and the room around them.

The bed that the dark witch was lying on came off of the far right wall, the iron carved headboard showed flowers and snakes, which Hermione swore she saw move sometimes. There was a chest at the end of the bed and Hermione dreaded to think what Bellatrix might have kept in it, two bedside tables with wooden tops and iron carved legs of a similar design to the headboard next to each pillow.

On the back wall, where two windows were positioned evenly spread out across the space, a desk sat not unlike Hermione's, this one scattered with books and notes, doodles that Bellatrix had done absentmindedly as she had been deep in thought.

A wardrobe stood against the wall and, beyond it, a set of double doors opened up into a bathroom that wasn't lit enough for Hermione to see inside.

Bellatrix mumbled something incoherently, as she had been doing since she had been placed on the bed, but Hermione had given up trying to understand her a long time ago.

Anne was hovering behind them, watching Bellatrix just as intently as Hermione was, and it was the comfort of the extra set of eyes on Bellatrix that had allowed Hermione to slip into a light sleep where she sat, the events of the past day finally catching up to her.

— — —

It had been the sound of the front door opening and closing that had pulled Hermione from her light sleep and she immediately started to panic.

Bellatrix's condition hadn't changed, if at all then for the worse, and Hermione frowned at the burnt flesh on the dark witch that didn't look any better.

She regarded what she'd heard again. If it had been Tilly, she felt like the elf would have brought the visitor to the room directly, not let them in through the door.

Hermione's heart pounded as she heard the wooden floors creak under someone's weight. She sat in the chair and tried to convince herself she was hearing things, that paranoia was taking a firm grasp on her once again, but the noises were unmistakably real.

Hermione decided to take action, grabbing a candle to light the way and the heaviest hardback book she could find. She gripped both firmly in her hands and headed silently out of the bedroom and down the hall to the stairs in her muggle pyjamas.

She tiptoed down them, looking to every corner of the downstairs hallway to find nothing and no one.

She turned the corner and headed for the living room.

As she got closer, she noticed a figure standing and staring at her from the middle of the room.

The woman, who Hermione noticed to be no older than Bellatrix, wore a polished unamused expression that seemed to complement the plain grey and black robes she wore. Hermione had to admit that she was stunning. Her hair was that of a masterpiece, twisted up into a perfect knot with shorter pieces of hair falling around her face.

"Well that answers my questions then," the witch said, almost bitterly.

"Maybe you'd care to answer one of mine, then," Hermione said sharply. "Who are you?"

"My name's Narcissa. I'm Bellatrix's sister."

Hermione raised the candle slightly so that it fully illuminated the face of Narcissa Malfoy. She hadn't recognised Draco's mother in the dim light and stepped back when she realised who she was speaking to, lowering the candle again.

"Bellatrix is hurt."

"Hurt?" Narcissa suddenly looked worried, her unimpressed expression gone in an instant.

"Did Tilly not tell you?"

"Tilly does not talk to me directly, she talks to one of my elves who talks to me, I was only told Bellatrix needed to see me imminently," Narcissa explained. "Where is she?"

Hermione lead Narcissa upstairs to where Bellatrix was still lying in the same position on her bed. A gasp escaped the Malfoy's lips at the sight of her sister and she ushered Hermione out of the room without another word, banning all elves except for Anne.

It had all happened so fast that she hadn't really processed it. It was only after the door had been shut in her face that the panic set in and Hermione stared at the door handle in front of her, wondering whether it would be inappropriate to burst into the room and demand to know what Narcissa was doing.

"She's healing her," Tilly said as if she'd read Hermione's mind, but at this point Hermione wouldn't have put it past herself not to have been speaking aloud by accident.

"Why is Anne allowed in? Why aren't I allowed in?"

"Because Anne knows potions and small charms, and Mrs Malfoy is an excellent healer but only when she has her quiet. Your presence would put her off. Let her work, Mistress will be back in no time," the hope in the small elf's voice seemed to offer some kindling to Hermione's willpower, keeping her going.

So, instead of barging in like she was originally going to, she let her back press against the wall and slowly slid to the floor where she sat facing the door in wait, hoping with all her heart that Bellatrix was going to be okay.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** _And this chapter is why this fanfiction is rated M :) hope you enjoy! It's also like 1k words longer than usual so…_

 _— — —_

Some hours later, Hermione realised she'd fallen asleep slumped against the wall when Bellatrix's bedroom door opened and Narcissa stepped into the hall, her face pale with exhaustion.

Hermione quickly found her feet and rubbed her eyes, straightening the pyjamas she still hadn't changed out of.

"She's asleep," Narcissa said glumly. "Could you keep an eye on her while I take a moment to write to my husband?"

Hermione nodded. "What was wrong with her?"

"I'll explain it all in a moment," Narcissa said gently before walking away towards the stairs.

Hermione watched her disappear before turning to the open bedroom door. Inside, Hermione saw that Bellatrix was lying on the bed. Hermione noticed that Narcissa had dressed her in some clean clothes and she no longer seemed to have evidence of her injuries before. Her hair was clean and the dark curls were as glossy as they usually were.

But she was still asleep and she didn't seem to have woken up.

Anne was gone, so Hermione was left in the room alone with the dark witch. She took a seat in the armchair that was still by the bedside and held Bellatrix's hand.

"Bella, can you hear me?"

There was no reply, not that Hermione had been expecting one.

She sighed, tears filling her eyes. Bellatrix should have been awake by now, she should be talking, she should have been walking. She was only burnt, as far as Hermione was aware.

"You've got to wake up, I need you. This entire thing is going to go down in flames if I don't have you here to help me. We've got this seal, we can do research, we can look into it. It must mean something. I… I want you to wake up. Please. Please, be okay."

Hermione hadn't heard Narcissa's light footsteps from down the hall as she'd stood and leaned down, kissing Bellatrix's still lips as a tear slipped down her cheek.

When she pulled away and turned, she jumped when she saw Narcissa in the doorway wearing a very disapproving frown.

Hermione immediately stood up straighter, lifting her chin slightly, a gesture she realised she'd picked up from Bellatrix when she'd needed to act superior to someone. She then realised who she was standing in front of.

The imitation hadn't seemed to go unnoticed and Narcissa's frown deepened, the corner of her lip twitching angrily.

"Miss Granger," she said stiffly, "I think it's best you and I get some things straight about my sister. Please take a seat."

Hermione sat down in the armchair, Narcissa taking the desk chair that she had positioned on the other side of the bed.

Once settled, the woman cleared her throat. "Whatever you think is going to happen with you and Bellatrix, I can assure you it _won't_."

"Excuse me?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Mrs. Malfoy, I'm not sure what you mean."

"You know exactly what I mean," Narcissa hissed. "Stop trying to be clever, stop trying to get your way. You are not my sister and she will _not_ be manipulated by _you._ "

"You think I'm trying to manipulate her? That I'm just using her to get what I want?" Hermione scoffed. " _She_ came to me, asking for _my_ help. I did not put her in this position and nor would I ever have forced her into it. And in case you haven't noticed, she is quite capable of taking care of herself. I don't think she needs you to moderate her love life with all that she has already been put through. And you're right, she won't be manipulated by me but that's because she won't be manipulated by anyone. Bellatrix doesn't just do what other people want her to do."

Narcissa blinked, her angular features softening into something more concerned. "The Dark Lord manipulated her," came the small voice, the Malfoy woman's eyes falling on her sister as she continued. "He moulded her into exactly what he wanted her to be and he did an excellent job. Bellatrix is more impressionable than you might think. Do not abuse it or I will make sure it is the last thing you ever do."

Hermione watched the woman across from her for a moment. "I won't. I would never…"

When Narcissa met Hermione's gaze the two witches seemed to come to a mutual understanding, the understanding that Hermione wasn't here to use Bellatrix like that and the understanding that– although no one would ever mention it– whatever it was Hermione had with Bellatrix would not be able to stretch beyond their alliance because of how different they were, because they were both on very different sides.

Hermione's thoughts drifted to Harry. Harry, the whole reason she was even where she was in the first place.

Hermione missed him, more than she could put into words. She missed Ron, too, but there was something about knowing she could see Ron if she needed to that made the sadness take a back seat. When you knew that person was never coming back, that they were gone forever, it left a particularly dark and empty hole in your heart where they used to be.

"What was wrong with her?" Hermione asked, pulling herself from her thoughts and back to the present, not wanting to dwell on her dead friend too much.

"A curse, a nasty one. It was some kind of a poison. If you hadn't sent an elf for me, she would have died within a few days."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the thought. "When will she wake up?"

"Any minute now, hopefully."

Bellatrix, however, had not woken up for hours. Narcissa had said it wasn't uncommon after the type of healing she'd undergone, so the two had talked over Bellatrix's sleeping form about the Ministry and what Hogwarts was like now that Voldemort had taken over.

Hermione got the distinct feeling that Narcissa wasn't particularly happy about the new order of things, but she hadn't commented on it.

Apparently, there was a new Minister but it was no secret that Voldemort had taken over the Ministry through Pius Thicknesse, not to Narcissa at least. Hogwarts had Snape as Headmaster, which Hermione found awfully suspicious, and it was all panning out in the Dark Lord's favour.

"Now that all the eggs are in His basket," Narcissa had said grimly, "I fear what he might do next."

"Aren't you supposed to be on his side?" Hermione had asked, looking up from Bellatrix's still face to Narcissa's.

"I am on the side of my family. They come first."

Hermione hadn't known what to say back, so a silence had fell and they'd both just turned their faces away from each other, Hermione watching Bellatrix and Narcissa watching out the window at the sunrise.

Finally, Bellatrix stirred. Her eyebrows creased together and she winced as she moved, gently squeezing Hermione's hand that hadn't left hers since the brunette had settled down.

"Bella?" Hermione was almost frantic and Narcissa turned her attention to her sister immediately.

Bellatrix didn't open her eyes, she just smiled slightly at the sound of Hermione's voice. "How are you? Did you get hurt?"

"It was you we were worried about, Bella," Hermione shifted in her seat as Bellatrix opened one eye slightly to look at her. "You were poisoned."

"Not very well, obviously," the dark witch chuckled.

"You're unbelievable," Narcissa said from the other side of the bed, rolling her eyes.

"Ah, Cissy, I see you met Hermione," Bellatrix opened both of her eyes fully, turning to her sister and trying to hide the wince as she did.

"Yes, Miss Granger and I met," Narcissa's tone was almost curt.

"Why so formal?" Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow, her usual raspy voice now sounding croaky, "Don't you like her?"

Narcissa gave Bellatrix a knowing look before she stood. "I must be getting back to Lucius before he starts to worry. Avoid moving for a few days while you-"

"While I heal, die of boredom, take up knitting, yadder yadder, yes, I know," Bellatrix probably would have waved her hand if she had been able to lift it. "Thank you for being my knight in shining armour, Cissy. You know you're my favourite."

Narcissa cracked a smile before she left and it was just Bella and Hermione in the room. The dark witch looked over at Hermione and, once satisfied that she was indeed unharmed, she smiled again.

"Don't I get a kiss? Don't tell me a brick knocked the memories out of you."

Hermione couldn't help but smile back, standing again and leaning over Bella as she kissed the Death Eater as she had before, this time Bellatrix's lips responding under hers, and Hermione smiled against the dark witch before Bellatrix's hands found Hermione's waist and pulled her on top of her.

"You're supposed to be careful," Hermione gasped as she quickly got onto her hands and knees over Bellatrix's body, not wanting to put any weight on her.

"Do you know how many times I've gone through something like this? I'll manage," Bellatrix's face still twisted in discomfort when Hermione shifted, though, so the brunette made an extra effort to stay still. "So what did you and my sister talk about?"

"You," Hermione said nervously. "I don't think she likes me very much, but she still answered my questions about what's been happening with the Ministry and Hogwarts."

"She doesn't _dis_ like you," Bellatrix looked up at Hermione's face and the waves of hair that were falling down in a curtain around them. "If she did, you'd know."

"She saw me kissing you, when you were asleep," Hermione cringed, "which now that I've said it seems a lot creepier than it actually was."

Bellatrix's hands slid down Hermione's waist past her hips and down the brunette's thighs where they rested just above her knees. "Ah, yes, now that might be a problem. She can be very protective, she has been since we attended Hogwarts together. What she seems to forget is just how much Azkaban changed me."

"What happened at Hogwarts to make her so protective?"

"I… dated someone that my parents didn't approve of. It didn't end well for me, I ended up never dating again."

"But you're married," Hermione pointed out, sitting back onto the dark witch's hips, which Bellatrix seemed to be okay with.

"I am," Bellatrix nodded, "but it was arranged. I didn't have a say in it."

"Why marry for anything other than love?" Hermione's eyebrows drew together in a frown, her hands resting on Bellatrix's stomach.

"Money," Bellatrix smirked, "status, power."

"So you've never been with anyone other than… your husband and your old boyfriend?"

"Girlfriend," Bellatrix corrected, then she chuckled, "and no, muddy, I've been with plenty of people. Don't tell me you're that naive."

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not. Who was it, the woman you were with before?"

"No one you'll know," Bellatrix said sadly, then smiled up at the Gryffindor on top of her, "but it doesn't matter now."

Bellatrix lifted a hand to play with Hermione's curls, Hermione gripping the fabric of Bellatrix's shirt in her hands, and they both stayed in silence for a long moment, just enjoying each other's company, before Bellatrix laced her fingers around the back of Hermione's neck and pulled her down into a kiss.

"You're supposed to be healing, Bella," Hermione managed between the kisses.

"Then help me," Bellatrix smirked.

"You're terrible," Hermione breathed as Bellatrix's lips found her neck. "Bella, you're supposed to be taking it easy, not… _shit_."

Hermione became dizzy with desire, her body instantly buzzing as Bellatrix's hands roamed around her, lingering and squeezing certain places in an effort to coax tiny little moans from the brunette.

"You were saying, my love?" Bellatrix's hand slipped under Hermione's shirt and her nails raked across the bare skin of Hermione's back.

 _Fucking hormones,_ Hermione cursed internally.

She hated being a teenager, everything was always so magnified– so out of proportion– and because this was still Bellatrix she was with, she craved rationality. But even when she was being logical she still looked at Bellatrix the same way, still saw her as a human being. She still thought about kissing Bellatrix, touching her, which Hermione had never thought about with anyone else. It drove her mad!

Hermione found Bella's lips again and deepened their kiss, not thinking about consequences or the future, instead thinking about right now and just how much she wanted Bellatrix to be naked like she had been that morning in the hotel room.

"Hermione, I can't do this right now," Bellatrix weakly grasped Hermione's hands in her own and Hermione hadn't realised she'd been unbuttoning the dark witch's nightshirt until she'd been stopped.

"But you said–"

"I can't use my hands," the dark witch clarified with a smirk and Hermione blushed a deep red.

"Oh…" Hermione awkwardly started climbing off of Bella but the witch only gently pulled her back.

"I said I can't use my _hands_ ," she whispered into Hermione's ear and then her tongue slid slowly up from the brunette's collarbone back to her ear where Bellatrix lightly bit the lobe.

Hermione forgot how to breathe.

 _Is this normal?_

Of course it was, but what Hermione was asking herself was whether it was normal to feel this way towards someone like Bellatrix. She questioned her own sanity on a regular basis now, especially as Bella's fingers struggled with the ties on her pyjama bottoms.

Hermione was acutely aware of just how weak Bellatrix was, but also knew that Bellatrix wouldn't do anything beyond her limits. The Slytherin wanted to find Harry's killer just as much as she did and likely wouldn't want to delay the process by breaking herself doing something as silly as having sex.

"This won't work while you're like this and I don't want you to hurt yourself," Hermione said as Bellatrix pulled the ties undone.

Bellatrix shook her head slowly, biting her lip as she traced her fingertips lightly over the top of Hermione's underwear. "It'll work with what I've got in mind. In fact, I think you'll really enjoy it. Now, do me a favour and take these off, would you?"

Hermione flushed scarlet again as she scrambled off of the bed and slipped off her pyjama bottoms.

"You could make a show out of it, you know," Bellatrix smirked from her position on the bed, turning her head to watch.

"Don't make this anymore embarrassing as it already is," Hermione snapped, standing in nothing more than her pale pink short-sleeved shirt and grey underwear.

"Oh, muddy," Bellatrix laughed, using the nickname lightly, almost seductively, and Hermione felt warmth pool between her legs, "you're adorable. For a moment there, I forgot you're a virgin."

"Don't make a big deal about it," Hermione scowled, still standing next to the bed as Bellatrix continued to cackle. "You know what, fuck you."

"No, come back," Bellatrix pined after the girl as she turned to leave, catching her bottom lip in her teeth at the sight of Hermione's ass. "Hermione, no. Come back."

Hermione turned, still blushing, with a pout. "Stop laughing at me."

"Oh, darling," Bellatrix's eyes raked over Hermione's figure appreciatively, her tone partially both humorous and seductive, "I'm not laughing at you. You're beautiful, more beautiful than you probably think, and as soon as I'm healed then I'll be taking your clothes off for you. But for now, if you really want this and I'm judging from the look of your underwear that you do, then you're going to have to help me out."

Hermione looked down and instantly covered her underwear with her hand to conceal the small wet patch on the fabric. She looked ashamedly down at the floor, embarrassed.

"Come now," Bellatrix's voice lightened, "they won't be a problem if you take them off."

Hermione didn't think she was capable of blushing so much. "I'm nervous, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Nervous?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "What happened to that big bad Gryffindor? I didn't think she was afraid of anything. Hm… perhaps you should have been in Hufflepuff."

Hermione's eyes flicked up and locked with Bellatrix's at the challenge. She set her jaw and glared at the dark witch, who was looking innocently back at her, as if she didn't know she'd just started a war. But Bellatrix knew exactly what the challenge did, she knew Hermione couldn't resist, and she watched as the brunette slowly removed her shirt for show.

"Stop enjoying this," Hermione smirked as she removed her bra and Bellatrix's breath audibly caught in her throat.

"That's impossible," Bella replied when she could manage the words.

Hermione hooked her thumbs inside the sides of her underwear and teasingly pulled at the fabric.

Bellatrix watched in anticipation, but Hermione didn't pull down the underwear. Instead, she took her hands away and walked over to the bed, grabbing the bed sheets and flinging them over the end. Bellatrix watched as the young witch then discarded her final item of clothing and crawled onto her, dipping her head so her nose ran across the fabric of the bed shirt on Bellatrix's stomach, making her back arch.

When she finally reached Bellatrix's lips she caught the bottom one between her teeth and pulled it gently.

"You were saying something about me being in Hufflepuff?" Hermione moved her lips to Bellatrix's ear, eliciting a shiver from the dark witch. "I don't think so."

Bellatrix couldn't help but chuckle before they kissed and Bella's hands slid up and down Hermione's bare sides, eventually stopping when they gripped the brunette's hips as firmly as they could.

One of the hands roamed back up, towards Hermione's breasts, where slim fingers found a nipple and started to toy with the sensitive nub. Hermione's breaths came faster, more ragged, as Bellatrix helped her achieve a healthy rhythm grinding into her waist.

The hand that was on Hermione's hips moved between the girl's legs and Bellatrix gently stroked the ball of nerves she found there.

Hermione hummed pleasurably. "Bella…"

"Yes?" Bellatrix locked eyes with Hermione as she tried to get her hand to work appropriately, but the healing process and the remanence of whatever poison had been in her system made it almost impossible.

"I want more."

Bella nodded. "And you can have more, but you're going to have to come and get it."

"What?" Hermione whimpered when Bellatrix removed her hand from between her legs and, without breaking eye contact, sucked her fingers clean.

While Hermione was dealing with some form of paralysis that the dark witch's actions had just induced, Bellatrix shuffled down the bed a little so that her head was off of her pillow, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Hermione's eyes bulged. "You want me to…?"

Bella nodded. "If you're not comfortable, then…"

"No," Hermione said with conviction, already starting to move.

"That wasn't a challenge, Hermione," Bellatrix sighed. "I mean it."

Hermione nodded. "So did I."

With one last kiss, Hermione shuffled herself forwards on her knees until her thighs were either side of Bellatrix's face and the Death Eater's arms wrapped around her thighs. Her hands held onto the iron bed frame as Bellatrix pulled her down.

Hermione gasped when Bellatrix ran her tongue over her clit, one of her hands ending up flat against the wall as she fell forwards and her breasts pressed against the cold surface, making her nipples poke out against the plaster.

When she tried to regain her balance, Bellatrix pressed a hand to the small of her back and pushed her back against the wall again, this time so her cheek was against it as well, and she held her there.

Moans rippled from Hermione's lips as Bellatrix's tongue flicked over her clit over and over again. She scraped her nails across the wall when Bella teased her entrance, all the while being a lot more vocal about how she felt than the Death Eater had expected.

"Bella!" Hermione moaned. "More. Please. I need more."

Bellatrix dragged a set of nails down Hermione's thighs, making Hermione's hips buck.

Bellatrix picked up the pace, Hermione still pressed against the wall with her stomach against the cold iron bed frame. With one of her hands, she gripped the metal as her hips involuntarily bucked with each lick.

Bellatrix hummed as Hermione's legs shook, her own hand slipping into her underwear and fingers tracing teasingly over her own clit. Of course, she couldn't do much more. Her hands were still slowly regaining full function and feeling, which she knew would probably take a few days at least.

Hermione had broken a sweat across her forehead and around the back of her neck, but whether that was down to nerves instead of what was happening now was up for debate.

The Gryffindor felt the muscles in her lower abdomen tighten and a thick fog cloud her thoughts. The only thing she could comprehensively think about was the feeling of Bella's mouth on her and the way the older woman's tongue swirled around, doing things to Hermione that the young witch never knew to be possible.

 _I thought these feelings only existed in romance novels,_ she thought. _How can it possibly be this good?_

"Bellatrix, I think you're about to make me– _oh, fuck_!"

Hermione didn't need to be able to see the dark witch to know she was smiling smugly as the Gryffindor came undone.

She felt the dried paint from the wall go under her nails as she scratched it, Bellatrix's nails digging slightly into their place on her lower back, and she moaned.

To her surprise, Bellatrix moaned in response, and when Hermione was too sensitive to withstand the Death Eater's tongue any longer, moved away to see Bellatrix's hand in her underwear, where it was still slowly visibly moving.

She looked to Bellatrix's face in time to see the dark witch lick her lips, using the back of her free hand with wipe her mouth. There was something very sexy about it and Hermione bit her lip.

Bellatrix removed her hand from her underwear and smiled up at Hermione, letting her arms go limp by her sides in exhaustion.

"Do you want me to… do you?" Hermione asked.

Bella nodded. "But I don't think it's a good idea. You might break me."

Hermione reached down onto the floor and pulled the bed covers back, lying down next to Bellatrix, cuddling up to the dark witch with the sheets over her naked body. "Okay. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?"

Bellatrix shrugged slightly. "No more than I should be."

"Good," Hermione yawned. "I worried I might've hurt you at some point in… all of that."

"Not at all," Bellatrix kissed the top of Hermione's head which was resting on her chest.

Hermione hummed her reply, being taken over by sleep-inducing hormones.

"Sleep, I'll be here when you wake up," Bellatrix stroked Hermione's hair and she said something else, but Hermione was already too out of it to hear.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** _I should be back to more recent updates now. I've just finished moving home so I'm slowly getting over the stress of that. My writing should get progressively better now that I can genuinely focus on it, too ^^_

 _P.S, hope I don't suck too much at writing smut! Let me know what you think :)_

— — —

When Hermione woke up, she was acutely aware of the arms that were wrapped firmly around her. The feeling of Bellatrix's hands against her skin was oddly comforting and Hermione cuddled into the older woman beside her.

She wasn't quite ready to face the world, so she did her best to pretend to be asleep on the off chance that Bellatrix was doing the same thing.

Eventually, she tilted her head up to look at Bella's sleeping face, smiling to herself at how peaceful she looked, and memories of the night before came flooding back. Hermione had thought that she might regret it, but she didn't regret it at all. Quite the opposite, she would happily go through the entire experience again.

She was so caught up in nuzzling back into Bellatrix's neck that she didn't realise the dark witch had woken up, only becoming aware of it when she felt fingers raking consciously through her curls.

Hermione hummed in response to Bellatrix's free hand sliding down to find a comfortable purchase at the small of her back.

"Good morning," Bellatrix whispered.

Hermione didn't reply, she only cuddled into Bellatrix more, which the Death Eater appreciated more than any words.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Hermione said.

"Only okay? I would have expected a little more of an enthusiastic response than that."

"Like what?" Hermione smirked. "Dazzling? Excellent? Extraordinary? Take your pick."

Bellatrix chuckled, holding Hermione tighter. "Hm. You have spark today."

"I always have spark."

"Do you now?"

"Mhm," Hermione nodded with conviction before they both laughed.

They continued to cuddle one another, Hermione feeling herself drifting back off to sleep before Bellatrix broke the silence and spoke again.

"This moment is going to be ruined in precisely seven seconds."

"Why?"

Bellatrix counted under her breath, only stopping when she got to three. "My sister is here."

As if on cue, Narcissa opened the door without knocking and Bellatrix immediately pulled the covers up so that they covered Hermione's breasts.

"How are you feeling-? Oh, for Merlin's sake, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix shifted awkwardly in her position, arms still around Hermione who was hiding her blushing face in Bellatrix's hair. "If I wanted your opinion, Cissy, I'd pay you for it."

"This is… what on earth were you thinking? Or were you not thinking at all? Do you know who that is?" Narcissa gritted her teeth, talking about Hermione as if she wasn't even in the room.

"I'm perfectly aware of who the woman in my arms is."

"I think woman is a stretch. She's just a _girl_."

"I'm _right_ here," Hermione piped up, surprising Bellatrix with her sudden confidence.

Narcissa blinked at the girl who had addressed her. "So far, my suspicions about you are only being confirmed. If I were you, Miss Granger, I would stay quiet."

Hermione had never seen such anger in Bellatrix's eyes— not when she'd killed Fenrir or tortured the supplier— and she couldn't help but coil away from the angry vibes the witch spat out with each word. "Do not speak to her like that!"

Narcissa raised her eyebrow at her sister before turning around and heading for the door. "I trust that you're feeling better, then. I'm warning you, Bella, this won't come without a price."

"Not any greater price than anything else," Bellatrix's hand continued to stroke Hermione's hair as the younger Black sister eyed the Slytherin and Gryffindor uneasily.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"I always know what I'm doing," Bellatrix lied smoothly.

Narcissa gave a nod. "I see."

Hermione watched the witch leave, a silence falling as Bellatrix continued to stroke Hermione's hair absentmindedly. Hermione didn't mind, in fact, she melted into the embrace. She enjoyed the feeling of Bellatrix holding her; she felt safe.

There was something about Narcissa, despite the way she acted towards the young witch, that Hermione liked. Perhaps it was the odd ways she attempted to protect her sister, or the way that she carried herself, which reminded Hermione so much of Bellatrix.

For the first time, Hermione noticed how different and similar the sisters were at the same time. On one hand, Narcissa and Bellatrix were practically the same people. On the other hand, they couldn't be more different. As per usual, Hermione overanalysed the sisters' relationship.

"My sister, she's not as bad as she seems," Bellatrix broke the silence, her words— although monotonous— heavy with feeling.

"She doesn't seem that bad," Hermione shrugged.

"We used to be best friends," Bellatrix let out a sigh, "before I joined the Dark Lord. She used to respect me, respect my decisions, but ever since I became His right hand she's been… different towards me."

Hermione glanced up at Bella's face, seeing the dark witch's eyebrows drawn together and frown lines on her face. "I think you might be overthinking it. She obviously loves you and probably only wants the best for you."

"That she does," Bella nodded, her features softening. "Anyway, back to our moment…"

Hermione shook her head, propping herself up on one elbow. "No, we have to look at this seal, start figuring out who it belongs to."

Bellatrix's eyes wandered and she gently tugged at the duvet that Hermione was holding to her chest, smiling before biting her lip when it fell to expose the soft skin behind it.

"Bella…"

"Hermione."

"We need to focus," the Gryffindor reasoned.

Bellatrix nodded, trailing the knuckle of her index finger from Hermione's collarbone down in a straight line over her nipple, making Hermione shift in her position. "We do, we need to focus on this."

"What about the–"

"No," Bellatrix said firmly. "There's nothing we can do about it right now, not until I'm able to apparate both of us. We can go and check out libraries and old archives but it's no good me going alone. We'll start our search in a couple of days."

Hermione watched Bellatrix's expression uneasily. "Promise?"

"Promise," Bella nodded.

"Okay."

"For now," Bellatrix smirked, "allow me to enjoy your company."

Hermione let Bella's hands roam, closing her eyes and resting her head against the dark witch's shoulder when one of the hands cupped a breast and played with a nipple.

"When are you going to let me repay you for last night?" Hermione asked as Bellatrix's lips found hers.

"Anytime," Bellatrix managed before Hermione rolled on top of her, still naked, and started undoing the buttons on the Death Eater's night shirt.

Bellatrix's hands gripped Hermione's hips, making the brunette moan every time she grabbed them harder or squeezed a little tighter, but surprisingly, the one doing the most moaning was Bellatrix. When Hermione's lips found the dark witch's neck, she tilted her head back to give the brunette better access.

Hermione sucked, bit and licked all the right places, making Bellatrix think about the night before and what it might be like to have that situation reversed.

The more she thought about it, the more worked up she managed to get, and her nails dug into the skin on Hermione's hips as the Gryffindor kept motioning to dip her head to take a nipple in her mouth before changing course and going back to the neck.

"Stop teasing me."

Hermione laughed, but did as she was told regardless after Bellatrix laced one set of fingers through her hair and tugged impatiently.

Hermione's tongue swirled around Bella's nipple, making her back arch.

"Don't you dare," Bella warned harshly when Hermione eased off, although her touches remained gentle and soft.

Hermione didn't plan to stop, at least not without moving onto something better.

Bellatrix's free hand stroked up and down Hermione's back as the brunette left light marks on the pale skin of the Death Eater's breasts. Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back onto her pillow, Bellatrix hummed appreciatively with every hickey Hermione left.

Slowly, Hermione slid down Bella's body, placing kisses as she went, until she was positioned comfortably between Bella's legs and she licked the inside of the thigh to her left.

The grip on her hair tightened, which made her moan, and Bellatrix shifted beneath the Gryffindor when delicate fingers hooked into the sides of her black underwear and threatened to pull them down.

"Don't tell me you're nervous again," Bella teased lightly, the words coming out shakier than she would have liked them to.

"Not at all," Hermione whispered, placing a kiss on top of the underwear where Bella's clit was.

Hermione didn't need to see Bellatrix's face to know that she'd gritted her teeth.

She slowly pulled the underwear down, Bellatrix bending her knees to make it easier for her to take them off, before placing her hands on the insides of the other woman's thighs. The two made eye contact, Bella's desperate gaze meeting hers.

" _Hermione_."

With a small smirk, Hermione lowered her head so that she could run her tongue slowly over Bella's clit, eliciting a moan from the Death Eater's lips.

The dark witch's hands both laced in Hermione's hair, making the Gryffindor's breath catch in her throat.

"Don't fucking tease me, muddy, or so help me, I will _end_ you."

With a small disregarding chuckle, Hermione picked up the pace with her tongue and Bellatrix's hips bucked in response.

Hermione didn't know she would enjoy going down on Bellatrix so much, but she found everything about it incredibly sexy. Between the way that Bella tugged on her hair, the way the dark witch's breathing came in ragged gasps and the taste of Bellatrix on her lips, she couldn't contain her own moans.

"Hermione," Bella breathed.

The young witch hummed in response, slipping a finger into the Death Eater.

" _Fuck_!" Bella's cursing continued, light and under her breath, as Hermione's tongue fell in sync with the thrusts of her finger.

"More," Bella demanded.

Hermione looked up at Bella, not letting her tongue leave the dark witch's clit, to meet her eyes. Bella bit her lip, moaning again as she did, and nodded desperately.

"More."

Hermione slipped another finger into Bellatrix and the Death Eater threw her head back onto her pillows, one hand letting go of the golden hair it was holding, fingers affectionately tracing patterns on the side of the younger witch's face as Hermione went back to busying herself eating the dark witch out.

"Don't stop," Bella hummed softly. "Don't stop, don't stop."

Hermione worked her tongue harder, which only made Bella moan more, and moved her fingers faster.

" _Shit_ ," Bella breathed. "Curl them."

Hermione did as Bellatrix asked and apparently managed to press all the right buttons, and Bella slowly started to come undone.

She didn't slow or stop as Bella's hands grasped at her hair, nails digging into her scalp, and the Slytherin loudly announced her orgasm.

When she was finished, Bellatrix gently tugged on the brunette's hair to get her to come up for a kiss. Hermione, still naked, crawled up the body before her and straddled the Death Eater as they kissed and Bella ran her tongue over Hermione's wet lips.

As the kiss deepened, Hermione felt her hips begin to rock without her permission into the dark witch and Bella smiled almost triumphantly as she slid a hand between the Gryffindor's legs. Hermione buried her face in Bella's hair to hide the blush as the Death Eater lazily played with her clit.

"Do you ever stop?" Hermione breathed a laugh as she sat up and bit her lip, one hand playing with Bella's left breast.

The Slytherin smirked. "Would you like me to?"

"Of course, not."

"Then shut up."

— — —

Hermione hadn't meant to fall asleep, but Bellatrix had been so warm that she hadn't been able to help herself. After Bellatrix had returned the favour, so to speak, Hermione had felt exhausted to say the least.

Now, however, she felt cold more than anything. The duvet was thrown over her, but she realised that she was alone in the sheets.

Hermione blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat up, peering towards the bathroom to find the doors open. Bellatrix wasn't there. She then looked around the room once more, almost as if checking to see whether the dark witch had appeared out of thin air, but was disappointed to find it empty.

With a sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and pulled on Bellatrix's nightgown which was draped over the armchair in the room. She plodded into the hallway and saw that the potions room was empty too, continuing her search to the main bathroom and her bedroom, both of which were also void of any signs that Bellatrix had been there.

As she made her way downstairs, nothing seemed out of place, but the sitting room was also empty, and Hermione started to panic.

With a little more urgency, she opened the door to the music room to find it no different to how she had found it before, then went into the kitchen to see that the elves were all sitting in a triangle on the floor eating their dinner.

"Where's Bellatrix?"

"Mistress left about twenty minutes ago," Tilly said with a smile.

"Did she say where she was going?" Hermione felt her throat thicken.

 _She'll be back,_ she told herself over the crushing anxiety.

Tilly shook her head. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Hermione managed, "not at all."

She closed the kitchen door, turning frantically to face the front door. It was closed.

Hermione ran upstairs, back into Bellatrix's bedroom in the hope that she might have reappeared, but it was empty.

Then the brunette noticed Bella's nightstand and the open log book sitting on it. It wouldn't have been strange if it weren't for the obvious and messy tear in the page, which Hermione eyed suspiciously before approaching it and flicking through the pages.

She quickly realised that the seal was gone, ripped clean out of the book with the missing page. Bella's wand, which had been next to the book, was also missing.

Hermione looked up at the doorway with panicked eyes. Bella had left without her.

Not knowing what to do or where to start, Hermione had turned to sitting on the bottom step of the staircase and tapping her foot anxiously, fingers intertwined and thumbs over her mouth as she breathed into her cupped hands— a failed attempt to control her breathing.

 _Where to start? What do I do? I can't apparate, but I don't know where we are…_

The noise of the front door unlocking made Hermione jump and she expected to see Narcissa walk in, but instead it was Bellatrix.

" _You_!"

Bellatrix stopped in her tracks, expression conveying her confusion perfectly with the front door still open behind her, as Hermione jumped up and stormed over to her.

Bellatrix hadn't been expecting the hard slap across her face, so she didn't attempt to deflect the attack in any way, but Hermione had put so much force behind it that she almost went flying back into the wall.

"How _dare_ you?! After everything, you fucking walk out on me?! What did you find, hm? I hope it was worth betraying me!"

Bellatrix rubbed her face with the palm of her hand, looking back at Hermione with wide and angry eyes. "Who pissed you off this morning?"

"You did, when you left me to wake up alone in your bed!" Hermione snarled. She was so angry that she didn't even think about going in to hit Bellatrix again, it just happened. In fact, she wasn't thinking much about her actions at all.

This time, however, the dark witch caught her arm and pulled it back uncomfortably behind her back, shoving her front-facing against the wall. It wasn't much unlike the time Bella had shoved Hermione against the wall before, only this time it was malicious.

The way Bellatrix held the young witch was meant to hurt.

"Perhaps," Bellatrix spat in Hermione's ear, "you should stop making stupid assumptions, _muddy_."

"You're right," Hermione winced at the grip Bellatrix had on her, trying to weasel out of it, "how silly of me to assume you went to follow a lead. You probably went snivelling back to your pathetic excuse of a Lord and begged for his forgiveness for fucking a mudblood!"

Bellatrix shoved Hermione into the wall harder, so hard this time that Hermione thought she felt a rib crack, but could quickly tell it was only bruised. While Bellatrix believed Hermione to be too injured to move, Hermione spun and managed to slip from the Death Eater's grip, landing a very well-placed punch below Bellatrix's right eye.

Bellatrix did fall against the wall this time, closing the door as her elbow clipped it, and she looked at Hermione with questioning eyes. "Hermione! What is wrong with you?"

"You left," Hermione didn't mean for her voice to break, but as soon as it did, the tears fell with it.

Bellatrix's hand that was cupping her face slowly fell as she realised what all this was about. She shook her head.

"You left," Hermione repeated, voice now small and broken, only now realising that the gown she was wearing had come undone and was falling off of one naked shoulder.

Bellatrix looked at Hermione with soft eyes, shaking her head. "No, no I was going to come back to you. Hermione, I'll… I'll always come back to you."

Hermione rushed over to Bellatrix, enveloping her in a hug and sobbing into the older woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Bella cooed, "it's okay."

"I didn't mean what I said," Hermione rushed the words, barely coming up for breath. "I promise, I didn't mean it."

"Hush," Bellatrix stroked Hermione's hair until her breathing steadied. "I've got good news."

"Good news?"

"Yes."

Hermione pulled away enough to wipe away her tears, seeing the bruises on Bellatrix's face that were already beginning to show. She traced her thumb over them and wished that she could use magic to heal them. She knew Bellatrix would heal them herself, though, which only made her feel marginally better.

She didn't understand what had come over her. The only thing that came to mind when she thought about it was her father telling her that love made people do crazy things.

 _Is that what this is?_

"Brace yourself, muddy."

"Tell me, what's the good news?"

Bellatrix smiled proudly, bringing out the ripped page from the logbook with a perfect raise of an eyebrow. "I found our buyer."


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** _Apologies if this is crappy. It's taking me a little longer to get back into the swing of this than I thought... just bear with me. I'll rewrite these chapters when I've finished the fic. Then you can come back and read the decent version and it'll be like this stuff never happened xD_

— — —

Bellatrix's demeanour had changed entirely since they'd arrived at the old warehouse they were planning to confront their newly-found buyer in. Instead of being somewhat relaxed as she usually was around Hermione now, the dark witch was tense. She carried herself differently, like she had when Hermione had first met her in the alley in London, and she clutched her wand warily in her right hand.

Hermione eyed her uneasily as they came to a stop in the middle of the dusty concrete flooring. "Bella?"

The Slytherin's eyes flickered from the door behind Hermione's head to her favourite pair of hazel eyes. "Yes?"

"Do you have a plan, beyond getting him here and trapping him? I still don't understand why it has to be me, or why you even think it'll be _him_ ," Hermione stammered.

"Because," Bellatrix looked around the room again until her eyes fell on a set of head-high crates which were stacked a few paces away, "he has come running to your rescue every time you've used magic so far, which means I can almost guarantee he will do it again. When he does, we can question him."

"And how are we going to go about that?" Hermione watched as Bellatrix pulled an armchair from behind one of the crates, sitting herself down in it with a content sigh.

"That will depend entirely on his reaction to us," Bella shrugged.

Hermione watched Bellatrix reach down the side of the armchair, between the seat and the arm, and pull out an old worn book. "Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you have an armchair and a book here?"

Bellatrix chuckled suggestively. "This was an old meeting place of mine."

"For you and Voldemort?" Hermione cringed internally at the thought, but Bellatrix quickly shook her head.

"Oh, Merlin, no. And not our mystery buyer, either, before your dirty mind can get to it. This was where I met with my friend from school," there was a sadness to Bella's words which Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on, but then she remembered Bellatrix telling her about having a girlfriend that no one approved of in Hogwarts and her curiosity immediately piqued.

"Your _girl_ friend?" the brunette asked carefully.

The Slytherin nodded.

"Tell me about her," Hermione said softly, walking over to the dark witch and taking a seat in her lap.

Bellatrix wrapped her arms around the girl, visibly relaxing with the contact, which had been Hermione's goal. "She's a Death Eater. We were in the same school year, same house, shared similar views, but now she's changed a lot. I suppose, I have, too."

Hermione raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"When my father found out about us and threatened to separate us by any means, I left her to protect her and she hated me for it. By this time, she was already involved with the Dark Lord's cause, but I was not. She knew that joining him would either be the making of me or the end of me, so she took her chances for revenge and preached to him every day about what a talented young witch I was– which, of course, I was–" a small sad smile crept up Bellatrix's lips before she continued, "until he came to see me."

"What happened then?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix turned so that she could see Hermione's face, admiring her as she lovingly stroked her cheek with her thumb. "My family forced me to accept his invitation to join, so I did what I could to best her in every way. I think I did quite well. Her revenge turned into one of the best things that ever happened to me."

"Do you still love her?"

"Probably," Bellatrix nodded.

"You don't know?"

"It's a little difficult to tell, I harbour so much hatred for her."

Hermione looked down a her fingers, which were fiddling aimlessly with the hem of her shirt. "Oh. Who is she?"

The dark witch only shook her head.

She didn't know what she expected Bellatrix to say, but without being able to form a decent enough response to the dark witch's story, she decided to stay quiet, wrapped in her own thoughts and theories of Bellatrix's teenaged years.

"I never thought I'd love again after her," Bellatrix's voice was strained, her words chosen slowly and carefully.

"Did you?" Hermione looked up to meet the dark witch's eyes again, her fingers slipping around the back of the other woman's neck.

Bellatrix didn't reply, she just leaned in and gently placed her lips on the Gryffindor's.

The kiss was so soft and tender, it was as if Bellatrix thought the young woman in her arms would break under too much pressure. Despite the Slytherin's caution, Hermione didn't seem to care. She tangled her fingers in the thick dark curls in an effort to deepen the kiss, but Bellatrix broke away.

"We need to get this over with," she whispered like someone might hear them.

Hermione nodded.

With a sigh, she stood and brandished her wand. Aiming at the wall, she cast _Expelliarmus_ and _Protego_ consecutively as they had discussed, then she stood in the middle of the floor and waited patiently as Bellatrix flicked boringly through the book she'd pulled from down the side of the chair.

Within minutes, Severus Snape blasted down the door into the warehouse with a spell, grinding to a halt when he saw how relaxed the two witches were. He knew immediately that he'd walked into a trap, but Bellatrix merged into a billow of black smoke, materialising again behind the potions master and snatching his wand from his hand before he could get away.

"Uh-uh," she shook her head lightly, smiling up at him. "It's good to see you, Severus. Please, take a seat."

When he didn't, Bellatrix waved her wand and sent him flying into the armchair where he remained, stuck with his hands on the arms by invisible bonds.

"Thank you for joining us," the dark witch advanced, circling the chair as Hermione watched her. "Do you know why you're here?"

"I have an idea," Snape said calmly, quietly, "but I believe it would be best to hear it from you. So, Bella, tell me, why _am_ I here?"

"Because Potter went and got himself murdered," Bellatrix spat with disregard, aiming her wand at the Slytherin House Master theatrically, "and the Dark Lord believes it to be me. Someone framed me. Was it you?"

Severus seemed to think about his answer carefully before he plucked for a simple, "No."

Bellatrix hissed and Hermione watched her clutch her wand as a crazed look flashed across her eyes. "Are you lying to me?"

"Absolutely not," Snape shook his head. "What on earth brought you to me?"

"Besides the obvious?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, then pulled the seal from her pocket and thrust it into his face. "This."

"What has that got to do with _this_?"

" _That_ ," the brunette dropped the seal into his lap, "was attached to the sale of a rare ingredient known as Yellow Peril, used in the potion that killed Harry."

"I am afraid you are out of luck," his voice was calm and conversational, as if he were speaking to friends, and he didn't seem at all phased by Bellatrix holding her wand tip to his temple. "That seal was confiscated by Filch when I attended Hogwarts."

"Ugh!" Bellatrix dropped her wand hand and threw her head back in exasperation, starting to pace around the chair again. "You're not lying to me, are you, Severus?"

"Why would I?" He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to respond. When she didn't, he continued. "I suppose you have already concluded that my loyalties do not lie with the Dark Lord. With this information, and the seal you have there, you could frame me perfectly and return to your place by His side. So, why do you not? It seems something is holding you back, Bella, something…"

Snape's eyes turned to Hermione, making the young witch feel trapped by the glare he fixed her with.

"… muggleborn? How tragic," Snape taunted. "I know better than anyone how that one ends."

Bellatrix hissed violently, throwing the Cruciatus Curse from her wand too quickly for him to see it coming. Hermione, however, had learnt to read the Death Eater's body language.

She knew that the way Bellatrix's wand hand twitched and the way her eyes would narrow and darken meant that she was angry, and Bellatrix being angry often ended in death or torture.

So, without hesitation, she threw herself in front of it.

Casting Protego quickly, the curse bounced off her shield and hit the wall behind the Slytherin, whose lip curled up in distaste as Hermione stood protectively in front of her potions teacher.

"You can't do this, Bella. Please, don't do this. He can help us."

"He won't help _me_ ," the dark witch hissed.

"But he will help me," Hermione turned to look at Snape who was staring at her, looking rather dumbfounded, "won't you, Professor?"

He seemed to consider this for a moment before he asked, "What do you need?"

"We need to get inside Hogwarts," Hermione said, "and we need to remain unseen."

"I cannot walk you in and Potter's Invisibility Cloak will not be enough to hide both of you, although if you have it, I'd advise getting it in case of an emergency. You will need to be extremely careful. There are certain enchantments on the castle, placed by Minerva after Albus' passing."

A cruel smile crept up Bellatrix's lips and she cackled. "Ah, yes. Why don't you tell Hermione the truth about that night?"

"Why are you doing this, Bellatrix?" he narrowed his eyes at her, still stuck in the chair, the invisible bonds apparently still in place.

Hermione noticed for the hundredth time how tense it was in the warehouse which, before she had cast the first two spells, had originally been so calm with just her and the Slytherin witch in it, cuddled up to each other in the armchair.

Snape's words from before echoed inside her head.

 _'_ _It seems something is holding you back, Bella, something… muggleborn?'_

"Because," Bellatrix began, releasing one of Severus' arms from the magical bonds and perching herself casually on the now free arm of the chair, "I think it's important for her to understand that you cannot be trusted, no matter what side you claim to be on."

"I know you killed Dumbledore," Hermione piped up. "Harry told me before he… died."

It was still difficult to say it, but Hermione managed to force the word out. Saying that Harry had died would have been impossible for her a couple of months ago, now she only felt a thick blanket of sadness being thrown over her with the words.

"But do you know why?" Severus asked.

"Harry and I never really got into that, he just said he was going to figure it out."

"I believe he would have. I want to help you, but there's only so much I can do. Bellatrix, if you would kindly return my wand and allow me to stand?" he looked very unimpressed as he glanced towards Bellatrix, who huffed before doing as he had asked.

"Thank you," he straightened his robe before pressing the tip of his wand to his temple and pulling out a long silvery line from it; a memory. "A vial?"

Hermione dug around in her bag quickly for a small vial, which she found and handed to him. "Why are you being so cooperative?"

"As I said, I want to help you. I am also fully aware of the consequences if I don't. Take these," he handed her the vial back with the stopper firmly in place, the silver inside of it swirling around, the memory caught within the glass, before he glanced over at the other woman. "Bellatrix, I trust you have a Pensieve in your old family home?"

"Unless my mother has smashed it in her old age," Bellatrix muttered bitterly.

"Well, take it and view them. I will wait for your owl," the Slytherin House Master turned to leave, but Hermione caught his arm before he could, surprising herself with the severity of the action.

"What next? After I view the memories, how will you get us into Hogwarts?"

"You are going to get yourselves in," he shrugged her off harshly. "How is not my concern, nor do I wish to know. However, I will provide an adequate distraction for Filch while you search his office."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Mhm," he turned again and started to walk. "Remember to send me an owl so we can arrange a time."

As he left, Hermione sighed with relief.

Bellatrix slumped back in her chair and looked up at Hermione from her seat, admiring her with her head tilted slightly to one side. At first, Hermione didn't notice the dark witch looking at her, but after a minute when she finally tore her eyes from the door, her hazel eyes met dark ones and she felt herself melt under the gaze.

"Yes?" Hermione raised her eyebrows at the Slytherin, who chuckled at her confidence.

"I think we should go home," the dark witch said.

"Home? The safehouse is your home now, is it?"

"And yours," Bellatrix nodded towards the girl in front of her, who only blinked in shock. "If you want it to be," she amended, "of course. I have no one to leave it to and the elves all love it there. I'd hate to pull them away from their work when I die."

"Don't talk like that," the Gryffindor's heart raced as the older woman stood and waltzed over to her, standing mere inches away.

A sigh escaped Bellatrix's lips as she reached up and cupped Hermione's face with her hand, thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. "It's realistic. I'm a goner the moment I step within spitting distance of the Dark Lord."

"Not if we have proof that you didn't kill Harry," Hermione rushed, taking Bellatrix's free hand desperately in her own, "he should listen to you, he'll _know_ it wasn't you."

"He will," Bellatrix nodded, "but it won't matter."

"Why not?"

"Because I've done something much worse."

"What have you done?"

Bellatrix's eyebrows drew together and she opened her mouth to speak, only to snap it shut. "Hm… no."

"Tell me," Hermione stepped closer, nuzzling into Bellatrix's neck. "Please. Maybe I can help."

There was a long pause. Hermione waited patiently for the dark witch to speak, hearing her own heartbeat in her ears as anxiety tugged at the pit of her stomach and she felt her breathing hitch.

"Because I've fallen in love with a muggleborn," Bella finally spoke with a heavy sigh, "and that is the worst betrayal of all. I could kill Potter a hundred times over but I would still stand a minuscule chance at redemption. But this… this is the one thing He will never forgive."

Hermione pulled away slightly, shocked at this declaration, and examined Bellatrix's face for any sign that she might be joking. However, she couldn't find one. The dark witch seemed entirely sincere.

"I know you think I am absolutely mad," she laughed, although it was dark and humourless, "but I really do love you."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She could only blink for a long moment before she managed, "Bella, I…"

Bellatrix shook her head. "Please don't."

The brunette snapped her mouth shut, staring at the woman before her in bewilderment. Never had she expected Bellatrix to love her. It was almost scary. She expected the dark witch to burst into laughter and say, "Ha! Got you there, muddy."

However, as she looked into the desperate dark pits of brown that stared back at her, she saw only sincerity. Warmth spread through her chest and her heartbeat quickened, but the feeling was quickly eradicated, smothered like a small flame when Hermione angrily thought to herself, _There's absolutely no way I could ever love her back!_

It was a little too 'the lady doth protest too much' for Hermione's liking and she battled with herself internally for what felt like an eternity before she said, voice small and sad, "I won't."

Bellatrix's lips pressed into a thin line.

Hermione wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but Bellatrix's hold on her only weakened until it was no longer there. The dark witch reached out again to take the Gryffindor's hand, and for a moment Hermione's heart skipped a beat and she thought that perhaps Bellatrix was going to hold her again, but they only apparated back to the safehouse, landing in the sitting room by the fire.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **_I'm thinking there's going to be two parts to this story, maybe three if I can think of a good enough plot for the third part. I already have something planned for part two, though! Would you guys read it?_

 _Also, thank you so much for all your reviews/etc, they make my day!_

 _Thank you to my beta readers! :3_

— — —

That night was the first night since Bellatrix's injuries that Hermione spent in her own bed.

 _The bed Bellatrix let you sleep in,_ Hermione reminded herself.

She tossed and turned, unable to even close her eyes. She hadn't realised just how much some of the things she had seen Bellatrix do haunted her until she was left in a dark room on her own. It wasn't like she was scared of the dark, she just had all the time to think about the things she'd seen and no one to chase away the memories when they became too much.

The image of Fenrir's head throwing back as he was placed under the Cruciatus Curse, his skull cracking open with the force he'd hit it against the floor, played a roll. A sick feeling settled in her stomach.

Then her mind drifted to the war, then to her parents, and she watched with tear-filled eyes as the small clock on the wall– illuminated by the moonlight that shone through the gap in the curtains– struck midnight.

Wiping her eyes and snivelling in an effort to compose herself, she quietly slipped out of bed and tip-toed out of the open doorway, taking a left at the hall until she came to Bellatrix's room. To her surprise, it was not closed as it usually was. Instead, the door was left slightly ajar.

Slowly, the brunette opened it and peered into the darkness before her. With a moment of hesitation, Hermione made her way over to the side of Bellatrix's bed which she had slept in for the past few nights and carefully crawled under the covers, not wanting to wake the dark witch.

However, after a quiet pause, it became apparent that Bellatrix was not asleep at all when she turned and pulled Hermione into a hug, kissing her forehead. Her lips lingered and, when she pulled away, she spoke softly to the younger woman.

"I heard you crying."

Hermione had made an extra effort to muffle her cries and keep her face in her pillow, and it surprised her that Bella had heard anything at all. "How long have you been awake?"

"Too long," the Death Eater's words could be interpreted in many ways, but Hermione didn't push for specification.

Instead, she cuddled into Bellatrix and let tears silently slip down onto Bellatrix's silk nightgown. The idea that the woman holding her was in love with her was too much. Bellatrix was supposed to be one of the most feared people to walk the wizarding planet, but here she was, being made vulnerable by a common human emotion.

There was no denying that Hermione cared for Bellatrix, even a blind man could see that, but what Hermione struggled with was loving her. Whether it was denial or whether she truly was incapable of feeling for the dark witch in such a way was unclear.

" _Must_ we view Severus' memories? I don't want to see my mother."

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. "It's important to me. Besides, aren't you even the slightest bit curious?"

"Hm," was all Bellatrix said in reply. Then, "What was he on about when he mentioned Potter's invisibility cloak? You're not telling me _Harry Potter_ had one of the Deathly Hallows, are you? That's positively laughable."

"Well, I never thought about it like that, but possibly," Hermione gave a nod, "but Ron has it, which means we'd have to visit him and I don't know if I can do that right now. I abandoned him when he needed me most."

Something about the vibe Bellatrix gave off told Hermione the dark witch had rolled her eyes.

"Think of it as a trade. I'll stomach visiting my mother if you'll get the cloak off _Weaselly_."

"Fine," Hermione sighed. "What do you think we'll need the cloak for, anyway?"

"As a snake, I'll apparate us into the grounds. We'll use the cloak to get around, into Filch's office, then when we have evidence of him being the one to make Potter kick the bucket, we'll use the cloak to get away. What happens after that is up to you, but I would prefer to wait outside for anything else, it's safer for both of us."

"And after that?" Hermione asked. "You know, after we found Harry's killer, what are we going to do?"

"You are going to go back to your life, happy in knowing that the person who did this will never draw another breath, and I am going to… well, I don't know what I'm going to do."

Hermione tried desperately to find the right words to fill the silence that had fallen until she settled with, "What if I didn't go back to my old life?"

Bellatrix chuckled. "Then you're stupid."

"I'm never going to just go back to my old life like that, Bella," Hermione pulled away slightly and, now adjusted to the darkness of Bellatrix's room, could make out the outline of the witch's face. "Harry is dead. Ron and I, well we will always be friends but I don't believe we will be able to be like we were before. Harry was the one who kept us together, he was the glue. I'll be going back to an entirely new life as it is."

"But I'll be on the run," one of the Slytherin's hands released Hermione from their embrace to gently stroke her cheek, "and I won't have anything to offer you."

 _You'll have_ you _to offer,_ Hermione thought, but the words never made it out.

"Besides, I could never do that to you," the dark witch tried to make herself sound light and conversational, but each word was heavy with a depression Hermione had never heard in Bellatrix's voice before. "You are capable of great things, go and do some good in the world."

The brunette didn't realise she was crying until Bellatrix started gently hushing her and stroking her hair. She had never felt more conflicted in her entire life.

"Go to sleep," Bellatrix told her when she finally calmed down. "Let's focus on the task at hand first, then we can think about the rest when it comes."

— — —

Bellatrix and Hermione stepped up to the massive front door of Black Manor.

That morning, Hermione had sent an owl to Ron, apologising for her disappearance but promising to explain everything if he met with her at two in the afternoon just North of the Burrow with the Cloak. Bellatrix had then quickly pulled Hermione into a side-long apparition, landing them in front of the dark witch's old childhood home.

Not bothering to knock, Bellatrix walked right in. The door was unlocked and, as soon as they opened it, they were greeted by the smell of dust and rotting wood.

"Mother dearest?" Bellatrix called, tone sarcastic as her heeled boots tapped across the marble floors. "It's Bella! I've come to see you! Come out!"

"What if she's out?" Hermione asked.

The entire house looked deserted, dust coating every surface. A large round table framed the open hallway and elaborately carved doors dotted down the entire stretch of the walkway. Any portraits were sleeping and did not stir, no matter how much noise the two witches made.

"She's never _out_ , she hasn't left this house since my father died."

"Oh."

"Druella!" Bellatrix yelled.

There was no reply.

"Hm. Most unlike her to avoid confrontation. Oh well, the Pensieve's in the study. Furthest door down the hall."

Hermione gave a nod, making her way warily towards the door Bellatrix had motioned to while the dark witch busied herself looking around at the portraits.

When she reached the door, however, she couldn't open it.

"It's stuck. I think it's charmed," she said, running her hand over the wooden surface.

Bellatrix sighed, waltzing over to it and tapping her wand to the door handle as if it were child's play.

As soon as she did, a foul smell hit their nostrils.

Hermione covered her mouth and nose, her eyes watering as she swallowed back the bile that had risen in her throat, but Bellatrix only wrinkled her nose, all too familiar with the smell of a rotting corpse.

"Oh my god," Hermione started to walk down towards the open doorway, turning back to look at Bellatrix, before she stopped when she saw the Death Eater's face.

A blank expression stared at the doorway, but the look in her eyes told Hermione that Bellatrix knew exactly what she was going to find on the other side. So, stomaching the smell best she could, Hermione walked back and placed her hand on the handle, looking to Bella for confirmation to open it.

The Slytherin only closed her eyes, but Hermione took that as the closest to a 'just get it over with' that she would ever get and she pushed the handle down and slowly opened the door.

If the smell had been bad before, it was certainly worse now, but Hermione held her breath as much as she could and peered inside at the half-decomposed corpse that lay across the solid oak desk.

Bellatrix opened her eyes, facing her mother's dead body with a sigh.

The Gryffindor stepped inside and walked up to the unrecognisable partial skeleton on the desk and noticed three pieces of paper clutched tightly in its right hand, holding them to its chest, even in death.

Gingerly and careful not to touch the corpse itself, Hermione reached over to pluck the papers from Druella's dead hands. As she did, she stepped on the broken remains of a green glass vial, but ignored it as she retrieved the papers.

They were letters addressed to each of Druella's daughters. Out of respect, Hermione didn't read them. Instead, she handed them to Bellatrix who flicked through them, stuffing the one addressed to her neatly yet disregardingly into her robe pocket. She skimmed through the ones addressed to her sisters and scoffed.

"Suicide notes."

"Aren't you going to send them to your sisters?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know yet. She wasn't the best mother. I could make up some story about going to visit her one day and finding her dead in her bed, it would be easier on them than reading the gabble she'd have had them read," Bellatrix tucked the other two letters in the pocket with her own.

"But she wrote those letters for them so that they could read them and hear her out, isn't it a little bit disrespectful to her if they don't at least get the chance?" Hermione stepped outside of the room, heading for the front door for a breath of fresh air.

"No, because she's dead. She doesn't feel anything anymore, she's empty, which is exactly what she wanted. They don't deserve to be passed her pain just because she couldn't be bothered to deal with it herself. I'll make a decision this evening, but frankly, Hermione, it's not any of your business."

Hermione snapped her jaw shut, frowning. It wasn't any of her business, but Bellatrix had been too short with her. There were _nicer_ ways to tell her to stay out of it. Either way, Hermione let is slide as Bellatrix headed around the back of the house.

Hermione followed her until they came to an overgrown garden. Bushes which were probably once trimmed to perfection and stones which were now slimy with an odd green coating greeted her, and Hermione watched as Bellatrix started using her wand to dig a hole which she presumed was Druella's grave-to-be.

"The Pensieve's in the study. I should be done with this by the time you're done with that and I don't want to stay here any longer than I need to."

Realising that now was not the time to question Bellatrix, Hermione gave a nod and headed back into the mansion, holding her nose as she entered the study.

She looked around and, in the corner, a Pensieve not unlike Dumbledore's sat on a stand, surrounded by a collection of memories all labelled in a beautiful script.

Hermione couldn't help but glance at them, looking at the tags. There were things like _Andromeda's first trip to Hogsmeade_ and Narcissa's first ball, but one memory that was not in its place in the rack lay on its side next to the Pensieve. Hermione rolled it over to reveal a tag that read, _Bellatrix's first steps_.

Tearing her eyes away and busying herself with pulling out Snape's memories when she heard Bellatrix heading for the study, she didn't turn to look at the dark witch when she walked into the room. She knew Bellatrix was only going to lift Druella's body with a charm and float it carefully into its grave, and she didn't feel like it was something she needed to watch.

So, without further ado, she poured the memories that Snape had given her into the Pensieve and lowered her face into the rippling surface.

 _"_ _Don't ignore me, Severus," Dumbledore's voice was somewhat soothing to hear and Hermione felt her stomach knot at the sight of the late Headmaster. "We both know that Lord Voldemort has ordered the Malfoy boy to murder me. But, should he fail, I should presume that the Dark Lord will turn to you. You must be the one to kill me, Severus. It is the only way. Only then will the Dark Lord trust you completely."_

 _The words were all clear, but visually the memory was rather hazy, almost as if Snape hadn't wanted Hermione to see something. Whether he was hiding something important or personal, however, Hermione didn't know. Perhaps it was both._

 _"_ _There will come a time where Harry Potter will need to be told something," the Headmaster continued, "but you will need to wait until Voldemort is at his most vulnerable."_

 _Snape, who had started walking away in anger, stopped and turned to Dumbledore. "Must be told what?"_

 _"_ _On the night that Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill Harry, and Lily Potter cast herself between them, the curse rebounded. When that happened, a part of Voldemort's soul latched onto the only living thing it could find; Harry himself."_

 _A grim look crossed Snape's face as Dumbledore continued._

 _"_ _There is a reason Harry can speak with snakes. There's a reason he can look into Lord Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside him."_

 _Realisation seemed to dawn on Snape. "So, when the time comes, the boy must die?"_

 _"_ _Yes," Albus gave a sad nod. "Yes, he must die."_

 _The potions master looked grimly upon the headmaster. "You've kept him alive so he can die at the proper moment? You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter!"_

 _"_ _Don't tell me now that you have grown to care for the boy," the way he said it made Hermione wonder whether Dumbledore had ever cared for Harry at all._

 _Suddenly, the memory shifted. Hermione was no longer standing in Dumbledore's office but was now standing next to Harry on the Astronomy Tower. Snape was motioning for him to stay put, a finger to his lips in an effort to get Harry to stay quiet._

 _Above them, Dumbledore reasoned with Draco and the group of Death Eaters, Bellatrix among them._

 _A shift, and Severus was casting the Killing Curse at Albus._

 _Another shift and Hermione was standing in a small room lined with bookcases and a fireplace, a rocking chair positioned perfectly to face the door. Bellatrix and Narcissa were there, Snape making unbreakable vows to step in for Draco._

As she came out of the memories, she saw flashes of others, but couldn't quite get a good enough look to see what they were.

Gasping for breath seemed to be the wrong decision in the foul-smelling room, but Hermione couldn't help it. So many things made sense.

The thing that she kept thinking about most, though, was that Harry hadn't died when Voldemort was at his most vulnerable. Did that mean that the Dark Lord couldn't be defeated at all?

At least now, Hermione knew that Snape had been loyal to Dumbledore. The Headmaster had _asked_ him to carry out the deed, to step in for Draco, but what Hermione wanted to know was why.

After finally tearing herself away from her own thoughts, Hermione looked down at the memory that lay next to the Pensieve, the one labelled _Bellatrix's first steps_. Curiosity ate at her as she picked it up and rolled the vial between her fingers until, eventually, she caved.

Replacing Snape's memories in the Pensieve with Druella's, Hermione lowered her face into the bowl again and found herself lost in a world that wasn't her own.

 _She recognised the hallway and watched Druella Black– young, healthy, alive– walk through her manor until she came across an elf who was walking out of the sitting room with a crawling baby Bellatrix in tow._

 _The woman smiled and went to greet her child, lifting her up and embracing her in a cuddle._

 _Hermione noticed just how much like her mother Bellatrix looked when she saw Druella, and even as a baby, Bellatrix still looked like herself. The brunette also saw the beginnings of a small bump growing from the mother's belly._

This must've been when she was pregnant with one of Bellatrix's sister's, _Hermione thought._

 _"_ _Hello, Bella."_

 _The baby giggled in excitement._

 _Druella went to put Bellatrix down again and, as she placed her on her feet so she could lower her onto her hands and knees, Bellatrix began to walk. It was wobbly and they weren't quite steps as much as they were stumbles, but Hermione felt her heart warm as she watched._

 _The mother gasped excitedly and knelt down next to her child. "Are you walking now?"_

 _A squeal of delight came from baby Bellatrix as she started to walk again, gripping the hand that Druella held out to her for support._

 _"_ _My Bella is so clever!" Druella chuckled, scooping her child up into a cuddle again._

The memory faded and Hermione returned to reality with tears in her eyes. Quickly, not wanting Bellatrix to know she'd seen the memory, she wiped them away and left after pocketing Snape's memories and putting the memory of Bellatrix back where she'd found it.

It was a relief when she finally stepped outside and walked around to the garden where Bellatrix had finished burying Druella.

The dark witch stood at the foot her mother's grave. It was covered with massive grey stones, one stone at the head of the grave which had been magically engraved with the deceased's name, year of birth and year of death.

"You know, you didn't have to do this now," Hermione walked up behind Bellatrix and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"But I did, because otherwise it would have become Cissy's problem, or Dromeda's if she ever came back, because if I hadn't done it today I would have never done it," Bellatrix sounded so monotonous, almost as if it didn't bother her, but Hermione knew it did.

"Do you want a minute?" the brunette asked.

"No," the Slytherin shook her head. "I said my goodbyes long ago and I don't honestly believe I have anything left to say."

"Would you like to go, then? We'll have time to shower before going to the Burrow if we leave now."

Bellatrix didn't reply, she just took Hermione's hand and intertwined their fingers, apparating them back to the safehouse.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** _Right, so I should be back to regular updates every two-three days for the next few weeks. I'm sorry my writing has kinda suffered with all the stress I've been under recently. Should get better now :)_

 _I've gone back and changed some of the things you guys picked up on (thank you for pointing those mistakes out to me, by the way, I_ do _read those PMs and go back and change them)._

 _I'm planning on finishing Part One within the next few weeks, then possibly a short hiatus while I work out a solid plan for Part Two, then all the Bellamione for you wonderful readers. Sound good?_

 _— — —_

Bellatrix glanced at Hermione with a perfectly raised eyebrow as Ronald Weasley walked into view, head barely poking up out of the tall grass North of the Burrow. His smile fell very quickly when he saw the Death Eater.

"Bloody hell. So, the rumours _are_ true? You've run off with that nasty piece of work?"

Hermione had feared his reaction, but had to say this wasn't the worst she'd thought he might come out with.

"Just let me explain," Hermione motioned for Ron to lower his now raised wand.

Bellatrix cackled, flinging an arm around Hermione's shoulders cockily. "Probably best to do as she says, _Weaselly_."

"Get your hands off her!" Ron spat.

"Ron, it's okay," Hermione didn't shrug the dark witch off, too busy trying to convince her friend that Bellatrix wasn't a threat.

The air was thick with tension and for a moment, Hermione regretted having Bellatrix stay. She knew how Ron was going to react from the start but her feelings for Bellatrix had lit the small embers of false hope that perhaps he would accept Bellatrix as she had.

 _Remember, it took you weeks to start seeing Bellatrix as a real human being,_ she reminded herself.

"Just, please, come and sit down," Hermione gestured to the empty clearing, glancing at Bellatrix who brandished her wand with the prompt and fashioned three simple wooden chairs for them all to sit on.

"Have you lost your bloody mind?"

Hermione ran a hand over her face in an effort to compose herself, not to snap at him for overreacting, because he _wasn't_ overreacting. She would never have sat down next to Bellatrix and talked like this the day she met with her.

"Hermione, darling, perhaps I should leave you two alone?" Bellatrix looked to the Gryffindor girl with a raised eyebrow, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"No!" Ron contradicted quickly. "I'm not letting her out of my sight around my family."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "As you wish."

Hermione watched the dark witch slump down into one of the chairs with a huff and had to contain the giggle that tried to rise at her lover's childishness.

"Ron," she addressed her old friend, "please, sit down."

Reluctantly, Ron took a seat, the action quickly being followed by a silence.

"So," Ron broke it, voice bitter, " _darling_ now, is it? I see how it is."

"No," Hermione shook her head, "you really don't."

He narrowed his eyes at the Gryffindor girl, arms folded across his chest as he slumped back into his chair in a sulk. "I'm not stupid."

Bellatrix cleared her throat to cover up a laugh, which she did terribly, but Hermione still appreciated the effort.

"Come on, then," Ron said, "out with it. What's all this about?"

Hermione took a breath, not knowing where to start. In a panic, she turned to Bellatrix for help, knowing it would be a lot quicker and easier for her to explain the situation.

Bellatrix only shook her head. "This one's all yours, my love."

Hermione's eyes glistened with tears and she held Bellatrix's apologetic gaze with a desperate one until the Slytherin sighed, turning to Ron.

"Potter was murdered," she explained on the young witch's behalf, "and everyone thinks I did it. So, Hermione here decided it would be a good idea to haul me out of hiding and question me, then decided that she needed my help because she can't use magic without the Ministry knowing about it.

"That's not exactly how it happened," Hermione chipped in, looking between her old friend and lover with an exasperated sigh.

"You wanted me to tell the story," Bellatrix looked over at Ron's slightly softer expression, realisation slowly dawning on him.

"Yes, correctly," Hermione argued, then turned her full attention to Ron. "She's missing out the part where she followed me around like a stalker for a week before Harry's funeral, asking me if I wanted her help."

"Why on earth _did_ you want her help in the end?" Ron asked.

"Because, Ronald, she's not as bad as she seems and she's surprisingly very intelligent, so together, we make a very good team," Hermione didn't mean to sound so impatient with him.

She was just tired and stressed and, while with Bellatrix, she felt like she was on the same wavelength as her. A lot of things didn't need to be explained in great detail because they both just assumed that the other was intelligent enough to know what the other was talking about, and they assumed correctly. Hermione forgot just how tiring it was to over-explain things to people and, while Ron _was_ intelligent, he didn't half pick his moments.

" _Surprisingly_ ," Bellatrix scoffed to herself.

"What I'm trying to say," the brunette said calmly, "is that Bellatrix knows a lot about things that we could have only dreamt of knowing before, things Dumbledore has left me to figure out on my own. She's helped me and she's helping us find out what really happened with Harry. She's not the enemy here."

"But she's only doing it to clear her name, isn't she?" Ron grumbled. "Honestly, Hermione, as soon as this has finished, she'll be gone. And if you don't think she won't use everything she's found out about us through you to her advantage then you can think again. Remember what she did to Neville's parents, to _Sirius_?!"

Hermione fell quiet, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I remember, I just believe people are capable of change."

"Not her," Ron shook his head. "It's all for show, 'Mione, and for what it's worth, if you have feelings for _that_ , I think you need help."

"What would you know about my feelings?" Hermione hissed.

Ron's voice was bitter, a clear case of sour grapes. "I've seen the way you look at her."

Bellatrix watched Hermione defend her, feeling guilty that the girl should even have to do it in the first place. She didn't regret the things she did so much as she regretted what those things now meant for Hermione. It was the rest of her life defending a woman who didn't deserve to be defended.

"I'm not going anywhere," she piped up, sitting up straighter, prouder.

Ron leaned forward, elbows rested on his knees, and fixed Bellatrix with the most intimidating glare he could muster. Bellatrix had to admit that she was impressed; it was good, by his standards, not that she was at all intimidated by someone like him.

"And what if she wants you gone? What if she never wanted to see you again?"

"I can promise you she doesn't," Hermione expected the Death Eater to smirk as she said the words, but as Bella spoke, she kept a perfectly straight and serious face.

"But if she did…?" the redhead shrugged.

Bellatrix sighed sadly, playing along with his games. "Then…"

Hermione met Bellatrix's eyes for a short moment when the older woman looked to her, and they were so _sad_. It was as if the thought alone would bring her to tears.

"Well, I'd go," Bellatrix turned back to Ron. "I'd leave."

"I think that would probably be best," Ron spat.

"No!" Hermione threw her arms and let them fall down by her sides as she sat up in her chair, glaring at Ron. "You don't get to decide what's good for me. I know you're trying to look out for me, but honestly… I am capable of making my own decisions about who I keep in my life and who I love. I didn't come here to debate my love life with you, I came here because I found a way that you could help me bring down the person responsible for our best friend's death."

"What difference does it make?" Ron snapped. "Hermione, he's dead. Killing whoever killed him isn't going to bring him back. He's _gone_. While you've been rolling around with _her_ , I've been mourning, and—"

Bellatrix stood suddenly, her chair falling backwards onto the damp ground of the clearing. Her voice was a hiss and she spat each word indignantly. "Oh, shut it, Weasley! You think she hasn't been mourning? You think she hasn't got feelings just because she's been 'rolling around' with me? What crap! Say what you like about me, most of it is probably correct– I won't deny it if it is– but don't you dare say a word against her after what she's done because I'll make sure you regret every syllable you speak."

Ron leaned back, cowering away with a grim look on his face. Bella didn't realise she'd taken out her wand until she tilted his chin up with the tip of it.

"Do you understand me?"

Ron stayed quiet, teeth gritted, shaking. Hermione couldn't tell whether it was fear, anger or a combination of the two.

Bellatrix moved her wand so that it pressed into his temple hard enough that he tilted his head to one side. "I asked you a question. Do you understand me?"

Hermione wanted to cut in, but all the things Bellatrix had said were true. She felt like the Slytherin's actions were justified up to this point and knew Bella enough to know she wouldn't take things any further because the Gryffindor girl would hate her for it. She trusted that the older witch knew where to stop when it came to her friends.

"Yes," Ron said clearly, ungritting his teeth.

Bellatrix removed her wand and stalked off into the grass.

"Where's she going?" Ron asked Hermione, instantly wary as he glanced back at his home.

"Don't worry, she won't touch anyone," Hermione said reassuringly. "She knows I'd have her head if she did."

Eventually, the redhead settled and looked back to his old friend with a sigh. Hermione held his gaze and wondered what he might say next, if anything at all, to try and sway her from romantically involving herself with someone like Bellatrix. However, what he said after the long pause surprised her.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" she asked.

"Reacting the way I did," he said sheepishly. "You're a big girl, 'Mione, you can figure out things for yourself. And I didn't mean to say it like you hadn't been mourning for Harry. I know better than anyone how you took it. Anyway, I shouldn't have gone off like that."

"No, you shouldn't," Hermione's eyebrows pulled together and she looked at Ron's guilty face, unable to stay mad at him. "But it's okay. When I first met Bellatrix, I found her incredibly annoying. I know you probably won't, but if you ever do get to know her, you'll see that there's more to her than what she's known for."

"Don't you care?" Ron's face twisted with emotion, as if he were trying to understand something that was beyond his years.

"About what?"

"About what she's done, about all of the people's lives that she's ruined, all the people she's tortured and killed…"

"It's not that simple," Hermione's voice was quiet, the air between the old friends seeming to settle with Bellatrix's absence. "I couldn't begin to explain it to you if I tried."

"Probably best you didn't try. I respect you and your decisions but I will never respect her."

Hermione nodded. The fact that Ron had managed to civilly tell her that instead of shouting it at her was a step in the right direction. Perhaps he never would understand her connection with Bellatrix, but Hermione didn't need him to. All she needed him to do was support her.

"So, why do you need the Cloak?" Ron asked, changing the subject somewhat.

Hermione laughed only half-humorously. "That's a long story…"

Bellatrix returned after Ron had left, finding Hermione with the Cloak of Invisibility folded in her lap, sitting on one of the chairs with tears slipping down her cheeks.

She hissed, approaching her and taking the girl's face in her hands, looking at the girl she loved with fire in her eyes. "What did he say to you? So help me, I won't let him see the light of another day!"

"No, Bella," Hermione choked out, "he just said he missed me and that everyone is worried about me. I feel bad because I haven't been there for Ginny and…"

"I'm sure she's fine," Bellatrix gently stroked Hermione's back, crouching down next to her chair.

"I hope so," Hermione snivelled, pulling herself together and wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise for crying," Bella placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead, helping her up. With a quick wave of her wand, she made the chairs collapse into dust. "Home?"

Hermione nodded. "Home. I'll owl Snape when we get in."

Hermione did exactly that. Upon arriving at the safehouse, she sat down with a quill and composed a letter to Snape saying that she'd viewed the memories and that she was ready to get into Hogwarts. She then gave the letter to Narcissa's owl, which Bellatrix used in the absence of having her own, and watched the creature fly off with the parchment in its beak.

She looked around the living room, closing the window the bird had flown out of, and noticed that Bellatrix had disappeared. The brunette went to the potions room upstairs and found it empty, then turning to the half-closed door to the Slytherin's bedroom.

She lightly knocked, pushing it open cautiously when she got no reply.

With her back to her, sitting at the desk coming off the far wall by the windows, was Bellatrix.

Her shoulders were hunched and all her other books, parchments and doodles seemed to have been shoved aside to make room for one particular piece of parchment.

Hermione walked up to her and quickly realised that the dark witch was reading her mother's suicide note.

"Bella?"

No reply came.

Hermione peered around at her lover's face and saw that her eyes were closed, one tear stain down her cheek and a mark on her cloak in her lap where the drop had fallen. It was the first time Hermione had seen her sit like this, looking so vulnerable.

She wrapped her arms around her lover and rested her chin on her shoulder. Bellatrix didn't react, but her breathing was slightly uneven as if she had been crying.

The Gryffindor knew it was wrong, but she was curious as to what exactly had made Bellatrix break down in such a way. The note was right under her nose, so easy to read, and she found herself glancing at it a couple times before her eyes involuntarily ran over each word.

 _My darling, Bella,_

 _I never wanted this life for you._

 _I must start by saying that I only wanted you to be happy all those years ago and I may not have agreed with your choice in romantic partnership, however, I respected it. Your father, on the other hand, was not so lenient. I hope you understand that I would have allowed it, that it was your father who forced me to stand with him, to force you to finish it._

 _I never wanted you to marry that idiot Rodolphus. He's vile, has a history with violence, and one of my greatest fears was that you would fall prey to his vicious beatings. When I spoke to Cygnus about this, he showed no care. He didn't care for much, he certainly never cared for me. I never wanted you to live your life like I did._

 _I knew you were never cut out for marriage, from when you were a child you were destined to do something great in this world, not look pretty next to a man you never loved. To my delight, you seem to have become quite the accomplished witch, but you also appear to be lacking your morals. I remember when you were kind, when you loved. All I see about you nowadays is talk of your torture and murder victims. It breaks my heart, Bella, it truly does._

 _I'm not sure what to say about taking the poison you provided me in the green bottle. I know I asked for the venom for experimental uses, but I soon came to the conclusion that I was never going to step outside the house, and that I was never going to get you or your sisters back._

 _You must look after them, Bellatrix, even Andromeda. I realise that outcasting her was the wrong thing to do, even considering the circumstance. She will always be my daughter, just the same as you, and I will love her equally to you and Narcissa until I take my last dying breath. Find them and help them, make sure they have everything they need._

 _My will states that my monies are to be divided equally between the three of you. However, I have left the deed to Black Manor and the entirety of its contents to you alone. I hope you can find good use for it._

 _And remember, regret is a pointless emotion that will one day devour you if you let it in. Don't waste your time indulging it._

 _Love always,_

 _Mother_

"Love always… Mother…" Bellatrix's voice was barely audible as Hermione moved to Bellatrix's left, crouching down by the chair so she could see the older woman's face.

"Bella?" Hermione placed her hand on Bellatrix's thigh comfortingly, but the dark witch didn't respond. She just stared down into her lap and mumbled incoherently between quotations from her mother's note to herself.

Hermione's heart started to beat faster, a fear response. The last time Bellatrix was unresponsive like this was before she cast the Cruciatus Curse on her. She sucked in a shaky breath.

"Bellatrix…?"

"Love. Always."

"Bella, baby, can you hear me?"

Bellatrix's eyes snapped up to the letter and stared at it for a moment.

Suddenly, the severity of Bellatrix snatching the letter up in her hands and crumpling it in her fist made Hermione immediately back away towards the wall, watching the Slytherin slowly lose her mind.

"Love _always_?! Where was that love when I needed it, where were you when I needed you? _Bitch_!"

"Bella, calm down," Hermione tried to reason, tried to get her lover to push through the red haze that was blinding the part of her brain that thought logically.

"I will not calm down!" the Death Eater yelled back, but the way she was looking at Hermione made the brunette think that she didn't know it was her again, that she was just lost in her madness.

So, Hermione stayed silent.

"Rodolphus was her idea to begin with, she planted that seed into father's mind! She has no right to talk to me about abusive arranged marriages. As for questioning my morals…" the dark witch didn't stop, her rantings turning to Parseltongue, which Hermione found sounded much more vicious.

Tears slipped down Bella's cheeks as she hissed out each word that Hermione didn't know the meaning to.

When Hermione thought Bellatrix might start breaking things, she tried to get through to her again.

"Bellatrix, please," she advanced, reaching out to touch the older woman's cheek.

Bellatrix's Parseltongue ceased so that she could spit out in English, "Stop!"

Hermione found herself being backed up quickly until she thumped against the wall. Bellatrix's fists slammed into the surface either side of her head and the Gryffindor screamed. "Bella, please–"

"Who does she think she is?!"

Hermione stared pleadingly into her lover's eyes, but it wasn't Bellatrix looking back at her. The woman in front of her was cold and dark, sadistic. She was an animal. She could not determine friend from foe, and Hermione believed that she may well have dug her own grave walking into the animal's den that evening to check if it was okay.

"All those things he _did_ to me," one of Bellatrix's hands hooked delicate fingers into the front of Hermione's jeans, holding the belt buckle firmly in her hands, "do you have any idea…"

"Bellatrix–" Hermione tried to speak, but Bellatrix tugged on the belt firmly to silence her, mashing their hips together.

"Shut up," she spat, face a mere few inches off Hermione's. "You don't know what that's like."

Hermione felt her hands shaking as she reached up and gently caressed Bella's cheek. "I don't," she managed, although her voice was uneven, "but you don't have to live like that now. You're safe from him now."

"You think I'm scared of him now? He's scared of _me_ now," a hint of a smile tugged at the Slytherin's lips, but it was gone in an instant. "He wouldn't dare try anything like he did before, but that is not my point."

Hermione was glad that Bellatrix's voice had lowered and she seemed to slowly be returning to normal, but her hopes were extinguished when the Death Eater's voice raised once again and her grip on the girl tightened.

"Everyone around me has played me. They've done exactly what they need to do to get exactly what they want and I'm sick of it! How about you, hm? How do I know you're not just the same as all the others?!" Bellatrix laced her free hand into Hermione's hair and pulled her head back.

The Gryffindor whimpered. "I'm not, Bella, I'm not like them. I promise!"

"That's what they all say, but in the end, you're going to pack your things and you're going to leave."

The grip on Hermione's hair tightened and she was unable to hold back the cry. "Please, let go of me, Bella. It's me. You love me. Please, stop hurting me."

"Why should I?" came the deranged hiss, but Hermione could hear the dark witch's voice break and she knew she was getting through to her.

"Because you love me," she whispered, "and you're hurting me. You're _hurting_ me. I know this isn't you, this part of you, it was the result of years of mistreatment. You didn't deserve all of that and you can't change it, but you can change _this_."

Slowly, Bellatrix's grip on Hermione loosened.

When Hermione could tilt her head forward enough to see Bellatrix's face, she met distraught dark eyes filled with regret and self-hatred. Tears slipped down the Death Eater's cheeks again, but they were for an entirely new reason.

"Hermione…"

"No," Hermione shook her head, voice soothing as she reached up and held Bella's face in her hands, "it's okay. You're okay."

Bellatrix dropped to her knees, burying her face into Hermione's stomach, and her entire body shook with silent sobs. "It's not."

Hermione had seen Bellatrix on the verge of a breakdown, but this was an entirely new experience. She wasn't sure what to do besides comfort her. She still wasn't very accustomed to Bellatrix showing much emotion towards her.

"It is," she sank down into a sitting position on the floor opposite the older woman, stroking her cheeks and banishing the fallen tears with her thumbs. "I'm okay, see?"

"I'm becoming him," Bella choked out.

"You are nothing like Rodolphus," the Gryffindor shook her head.

"No," Bella's hands rested on the tops of Hermione's thighs, almost gripping them as she continued, "my father."

"Absolutely not," Hermione said firmly, "you are not becoming him. All those things he did, you would never do that to other people, to your own child. I know you."

"Are you sure about that?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione nodded. "I am."

Slowly, the Gryffindor leaned in to kiss the dark witch.

"What are you doing, Hermione?" Bella mumbled against soft lips, her tone tired and resigned. It reminded Hermione of the time they'd kissed in the hotel in Sterling, when the older woman had asked her the exact same question.

This time, Hermione didn't try to be smart. Instead, she was honest.

"I don't know," she said with a small humourless laugh, meeting her favourite set of dark eyes, "but I don't care."

Bella rested her forehead against the brunette's, slipping her fingers around the back of the young witch's neck where they rested happily in a bed of curls. "Please don't do anything you're going to regret."

Hermione's heart sunk as the thought of the letter from Druella and it's ending, and she felt guilty for having read it. However, she just shook her head. "I won't."

"It'll kill you, the regret," Bellatrix whispered, almost as if these were state secrets she was sharing and not life advice, "so just don't–"

"I'm not going to regret this," Hermione fixed Bellatrix with a sincere gaze, one that promised certainty, and after a moment of silence, Bellatrix closed the distance and kissed Hermione's lips passionately, as if it might be the last time.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** _I'm updating fast again! Yay! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter ;) I wrote this when I was too tired to remember writing it and then woke up to a lovely surprise in the morning lmao!_

 _Thank you to a couple of friends for helping me edit and check my writing and stuff. I don't know their users on here but they know who they are :P -huggles them-_

 _-insert nervous ramblings about uploading smut because apparently it's anxiety inducing- (My anxiety is really bad right now, just generally, but unfortunately that completely makes me lose faith in myself and my writing, so I don't know whether my writing genuinely has gone to shit or if I'm being paranoid... so, any reviews with_ _constructive criticisms and stuff like that would help me out a lot!)_

— — —

Before dinner, Hermione received an owl back from Snape to say that he believed it would be dangerous for them to continue with the Trace on Hermione, since he was now appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts, and could no longer cover for any slip ups. He advised that they wait the few remaining weeks until Hermione's birthday to continue.

However, Hermione knew that the killer could slip away within the next few weeks and they may never solve Harry's murder. So, she sent an owl back asking him if there was any way around the Trace, or perhaps to remove it, since waiting could prove to be detrimental to their mission.

After dinner, which Bellatrix was extremely quiet over, Hermione received a reply.

 _Miss Granger,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well._

 _I have an idea, however it is extremely dangerous and I would not advise accepting this offer half-heartedly._

 _Within the Ministry, there is a room known to hold the hourglasses responsible for tracking every underage witch and wizard's Traces. With the correct Polyjuice, which I could have ready by midday tomorrow, we could slip into the Ministry and successfully remove the Trace from you individually._

 _I must warn you, it would be extraordinarily dangerous. I would be happy to accompany you. Bellatrix, on the other hand, must stay away. If we are caught, she will find herself the victim of a killing curse before she could say a word in defence and we would follow her._

 _The Dark Lord has given the permission to certain individuals to end Bellatrix's life should they cross her. Those certain individuals reside in the Ministry of Magic._

 _I ask that you reply tonight and quickly, since the only chance we would have to get into this room would be between 1pm and 2pm tomorrow. Any other time, and the room will be heavily guarded._

 _Think carefully before agreeing to do this. The punishment for stepping into the Ministry under Polyjuice without being authorised is severe._

 _Snape_

Hermione slid the letter over the dining table for Bellatrix to read.

"No," the dark witch said quickly, too quickly for her to have read the entire letter.

"What?"

"No, you're not going," she clarified.

Hermione blinked. "But… three weeks, Bellatrix."

"It's not worth the danger you'll put yourself in, I'd rather sit around for _six_ weeks if it meant you didn't have to go into the Ministry with Severus, of all people," Bella slid the letter back.

"We're so close to finding the killer, I can feel it. I have to do this, I can't let this slip away from me because it's a little bit more dangerous than I'm accustomed to," Hermione argued.

"Okay, but while you're doing that, I'll go on a mission of my own," Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, "one equally dangerous."

"It's not a competition."

"Oh, I'm not competing."

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, waiting for an explanation.

Sure enough, Bellatrix launched into one. "You see, muddy, I have a theory, ever since you mentioned the Deathly Hallows to me."

"Yes?"

With Hermione's prompt, Bellatrix continued. "The Dark Lord often spoke to me about the Hallows–usually privately in Parseltongue– and he was after the Elder Wand. His aim was to use it on Harry, however, that isn't really a problem anymore. I'd imagine he is still after it, but since you told me that Dumbledore gave you that book with the symbol in it, I've been thinking about where Voldemort might find it."

"And where is that?" Hermione asked.

"With him," a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of the Slytherin's lips. "Dumbledore. I'd quite like to know if I'm right. I know where he's buried."

"And if it's with Dumbledore, will you use it yourself?" Hermione blinked.

"Oh, Merlin, no!" Bellatrix laughed. "I'm not touching it. Besides, it's not loyal to me anymore than it's loyal to Him."

"How do you know all of this?" the Gryffindor found Bellatrix's extensive knowledge disconcerting to say the least.

She shrugged. "It's for the Dark Lord, although I'll admit to only drip-feeding him the information when he needs it. I know him, I know he'll play it all out in the wrong order if he knew half the things I did. So, when he needs something, I pretend to find that information for him and tell him– at least, that's how it used to be."

"So, who _is_ the Wand loyal to?"

"Unless anyone has disarmed him recently, it'll be Draco. He disarmed Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower the night he died. However, currently, I'd imagine Voldemort believes that ownership is transferred through killing the owner, it's a common misconception."

Hermione's jaw went slack, then she couldn't help but laugh slightly. "What are you, an encyclopaedia of all things dark and twisted?"

Bellatrix smirked, raising an eyebrow with a shrug.

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"I have a question," Hermione began.

"Go on," Bella nodded.

"What do you know about Golden Snitches?"

The dark witch thought for a moment. "Not much. Only really that they have flesh memories."

"Oh…" Hermione looked down at Snape's letter on the table, making a mental note to reply in a minute.

"Why do you ask, darling?"

"Because Dumbledore left Harry the Golden Snitch, which he obviously never collected, but I took it from the Minister after he read me out the will. I don't think he left it purely to be sentimental. I think there's something about it, to do with the flesh memories maybe, that is a clue to something. Perhaps it holds something? I'm not sure… but the flesh memories makes it difficult to find out," Hermione explained with a sigh.

"There is a way," Bella said grimly.

A wave of nausea washed over Hermione at the thought of digging up her best friend's corpse. She shuddered, shaking her head. "I've dealt with enough dead bodies today, I don't want to think about that."

"I happen to agree," Bella nodded, then quickly changed the subject. "Are you still interested in learning Parseltongue?"

"I still don't think you can learn it," Hermione sighed as Tilly came to clear their plates.

Both witches thanked her before Hermione asked her to find her a quill and some parchment so she could write to Snape, since she had no idea where to look and she was so deep in conversation with Bellatrix.

"I think you could. It would never be perfect, but so long as I can understand you, I think it would help us in the long run," Bella said. "Think about it, if we ever end up in a situation like we did before with Fenrir, we could communicate."

"You have a point," Hermione admitted.

"Don't I always," Bella smiled smugly.

Hermione hesitated, pursing her lips. "No."

Bellatrix shot her an evil glare before Tilly appeared with the parchment and quill for her.

"Is that all Miss Hermione needs?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded, "thank you, Tilly."

"You are most welcome, miss."

Bellatrix watched Hermione write a letter to Snape and send it with Narcissa's owl. All the while, Hermione was aware of the dark witch's stare, but paid no attention to it until the letter asking for a time and meeting place was sent.

When she turned to address the older woman and ask her if she was okay, Bellatrix was already right behind her and she shoved Hermione up against the window sill, immediately ducking her head to nuzzle into the brunette's neck.

She didn't do anything, just hummed happily against the skin she found there, which she knew would drive Hermione insane, instantly putting her hormones on overload.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she tilted her head back slightly almost immediately, moving her hair to one side so Bellatrix had better access to her neck.

The Slytherin laughed. "So easy."

Hermione rolled her eyes, reaching up to lace her fingers gently into Bella's hair.

The Death Eater placed a kiss on Hermione's collarbone, working her way up to the Gryffindor's jawline, while Hermione's heart proceeded to pound faster.

"I need to rest, Bella."

"I promise you'll sleep well after this," Bellatrix whispered seductively into the younger witch's ear.

It didn't take much to whittle Hermione down and, after she nodded her head for Bellatrix to continue, she was surprised when the Slytherin grabbed her hips and spun her around, shoving her so that she was leaning with her hands on the window sill.

"Don't move," she ordered.

Hermione bit her lip, smiling to herself as Bellatrix's hands started at her back and slid down her sides until they were grabbing both of her butt cheeks over her jeans. She pulled Hermione away from the ledge a little more, but told her firmly to keep her hands on the sill, so that she was bent over.

The Slytherin positioned herself so that she was pressed up against Hermione's ass, thighs on thighs, and her hands slid up under the Gryffindor's shirt where they were happy to find that Hermione had already taken her bra off for comfort. She rolled Hermione's nipples between her fingers, eliciting soft moans from her lover's lips.

"What if an elf comes in?" the brunette worried.

"They won't," Bellatrix undid Hermione's button on her jeans, slowly starting to slip them down until they were around the young witch's ankles.

"What if they do though?" Hermione's voice was small and anxious, and it made Bellatrix weak, so she wrapped her arms around the girl and apparated them without warning to Bellatrix's bedroom.

Upon landing, Hermione's jeans were still around her ankles and she lost balance, falling against the wall with her hands out as Bellatrix had intended her to, landing in a perfect position for Bellatrix to continue as she had been before.

Hermione hadn't expected Bellatrix's hand to come down on her right butt cheek and she squeaked in surprise when it happened, but she found that she rather enjoyed the stinging sensation the slap left, and she hummed in approval.

"I found a kink," Bellatrix chuckled, spanking Hermione again.

"Ouch," Hermione faked, unable to help the laugh that came afterwards.

Bellatrix ran the tips of her fingers over the red handprint she'd left, happy with her work and determined to make more. First, however, she made quick work of removing Hermione's clothes with a spell, flicking her fingers towards them and leaving the Gryffindor entirely naked, jeans gone and all.

"You need to stop doing that," Hermione said, "it's lazy."

"I don't appreciate the attitude," Bellatrix's left hand came down this time in an effort to even out the red marks and make both cheeks identical.

"Do you want me to apologise?" Hermione mocked.

"I won't need to ask you to, you'll do it all on your own," the Death Eater smirked from behind the girl, both hands coming down at the same time, and Hermione let out a pleasurable moan when they did.

She raked her nails down the brunette's back, making it arch, and more sweet sounds slipped from Hermione's lips.

Collecting her lover's hair in one hand, Bellatrix gently pulled on it until Hermione's head was up, neck bent back slightly. It was just enough to have a hold on her but not enough for it to be uncomfortable. Not yet, at least.

One hand then reached down between her legs and Bellatrix's fingers started to slowly play with Hermione's clit.

"Can I lie down?" Hermione asked, already feeling her legs turn to jelly and unsure if she would be able to stand throughout the whole thing.

"No," Bellatrix said firmly.

Hermione whimpered as Bellatrix established a rhythm with her fingers, pulling ever so slightly on the hair she had ahold of.

When Hermione's breathing started to get a little more ragged, she removed her hand, slapping over one of the already existing hand marks enough to make Hermione cry out, before quickly putting her hand back, this time sliding two fingers inside of her and placing her thumb against the brunette's clit.

The grip on Hermione's hair tightened and she found herself being pulled back onto Bellatrix's fingers.

Already, she felt herself getting close to climax.

Bellatrix could feel it– between the way the woman at her mercy shook slightly with the impending release and the grip she had on the dark witches fingers– and she smiled to herself as she got Hermione right to the edge, right when she announced that she was going to come, before withdrawing her hand and slapping her again, resting it once she was done on the small of the Gryffindor's back.

"No!" Hermione moaned, although it came out more breathy than she would have liked. "Bella, please!"

"Just a minute," Bellatrix smirked, tugging on the hair she had in her hand at the same time that she spanked the girl again.

"No, please don't stop, please," Hermione begged.

Bellatrix chuckled, putting her hand back where it had been and establishing a rhythm again, doing the same things she'd been doing to Hermione before she'd edged her.

" _Bella_ ," Hermione moaned, "please, don't stop."

"Hm…" Bellatrix looked so smug, but Hermione didn't need to see it. She could picture the dark witch's face perfectly and it irritated her in all the best ways.

"Please," she begged breathily, "please, please _please_."

Her legs started to give way, but she was determined to stay standing, if anything just to annoy Bellatrix and get back at her, to not give her the satisfaction.

Bellatrix leaned over and placed kisses on Hermione's back, biting into the soft skin of the young witch's shoulder.

Hermione let out a pleasurable cry. "You'll make me come. Please don't stop this time!"

"Hm," was all Bellatrix said in reply and, as Hermione started to come, Bellatrix withdrew her hand again.

" _Fuck_!" Hermione cursed, shouting loudly. Her legs wobbled as she tried to recover from not being allowed to climax for a second time.

"Please, not again," she begged, leaning more against the wall to support herself. " _Please_."

"You look a little unstable," Bellatrix taunted.

"I'm fine!" Hermione snapped.

"Are you?" Bella laughed again, slipping her fingers back inside Hermione, cutting the brunette off mid-comeback.

Almost immediately, Hermione's legs gave way and Bellatrix let go of Hermione's hair so that she could wrap one arm around the woman's stomach and hold her up, ordering her to keep her hands on the wall.

"Now ask nicely," she said, feeling Hermione tighten further around her fingers.

Hermione said please so much, it just turned into a long string of the same pattern of broken syllables. She didn't stop until Bellatrix laughed and told her she was asking in the wrong way.

She tried different variations of asking to be allowed to come, wording it differently, even asking if she expected to hear it in Parseltongue at one point when she couldn't figure out what Bellatrix wanted.

She was trying her best to do as she was told, but she needed a release quickly, or she feared she might explode.

That's when she thought back to Bellatrix saying she wouldn't have to ask for an apology and she immediately burst out into, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please let me come, Bella, please! I'm sorry!"

"What for?" the dark witch asked, quickening the pace with her fingers.

"Shit!" Hermione had been worried about the elves seeing her, but she didn't seem to be at all concerned about them _hearing_ her. "For being rude?"

Bellatrix's laughter echoed in the bedroom and she leaned forward again, whispering to her lover as she towered over her and held her up by her waist. "Come for me, Hermione."

Hermione's release was immediate. As soon as she heard Bella say it, she felt waves of pleasure wash over her until she was no longer able to stand and the Death Eater scooped her up, laying her down on the bed.

Sleep had never seemed as excellent an idea than it did then.

Bellatrix crawled onto the bed next to Hermione, cuddling into her, kissing her hands and placing light kisses where she'd bitten her shoulder. It was almost as if she were reminding the girl that she still loved her, even though she'd been a little rough with her.

Hermione wanted to return the favour, but sleep was pulling her under like a strong current already, the day they'd had catching up with her.

"Sleep, darling," Bellatrix placed a kiss on the girl's forehead. "I'll still be here in the morning."

— — —

The following morning, Hermione had been woken by Bellatrix announcing to her that she had a reply from Snape, telling them to meet him at 12:30pm in the alley Hermione had first used magic outside of Hogwarts in, the same alley that she'd lured Bellatrix to. From there, Snape was planning to apparate them to the nearest Ministry Floo network.

She was now waiting in the designated place, wrapped up in the memory of the morning when she'd had the chance to repay Bellatrix for the evening.

"You're blushing," Bellatrix pointed out playfully, but anyone could see that she was anxious.

"Calm down, I'll be fine," Hermione whispered soothingly as Snape approached them from around a corner.

Hermione glanced behind her at the wall she'd first seen Bellatrix leaning against, smiling to herself when she thought about how far she'd come with her ex-enemy.

"For the last time," Snape said, "are you sure about this?"

"Hello to you, too," Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure," Hermione nodded, ignoring Bella's smart remarks.

"Listen, Severus," Bellatrix stepped forward, putting herself between the Potions Master and the woman she loved, "allow me to make something very clear."

"Yes?" his lips pressed into a thin line.

"If anything happens to her, I'll hold you personally responsible. This was your terrible idea, you better get her back in one piece."

Hermione watched Bellatrix, who was much shorter than Snape, seemingly tower over him. He didn't reply, but besides 'okay' the Gryffindor didn't suppose there was much he _could_ say back.

The Slytherin woman turned to Hermione then, surprising her by pulling the young witch in for a passionate kiss. "If there is even the slightest sign of things going wrong, the slightest sign of danger, I want you to apparate out of there straight away. Go to the safehouse and tell the elves to barricade it, then tell Tilly to find me. I don't care if we have to wait a few more weeks, not having to wait isn't worth a hair on your head, do you understand me?"

Hermione laughed slightly, warmed by how protective Bellatrix was being. "Bella, I'll be fine. I'll see you soon, okay? Meet you back here in a little over an hour?"

Bellatrix nodded, running her thumb over Hermione's bottom lip. "Stay safe."

Hermione placed one last kiss on Bellatrix's lips before stepping away.

She approached her old Potions professor and hesitated, looking at his arm which he was holding out for her to take. She didn't want to glance back at Bellatrix, sure that the worried look in the dark witch's eyes would convince her to stay, so she took Snape's arm and he quickly apparated.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** _I don't know what to say about this chapter. Thank you to my friend for reading it for me before I posted!_

 _Thank you for your reviews, they mean the world to me!_

— — —

The last time Hermione had been inside the Ministry of Magic, she had seen Sirius die at Bellatrix's hands.

It was odd to think of _that_ Bellatrix and the woman Hermione knew now as the same people. Of course, Bellatrix had changed a lot; however, Hermione knew she'd changed a lot, too.

Walking around the Ministry as Mafalda Hopkirk, though, was not the types of changes she had in mind.

Snape walked beside her as a medium height, pale, balding man. He didn't look amused. When Hermione had asked him who he was, he had said that it didn't matter and that she needed to focus on her. He gave her a crash course on the woman she would pretend to be for the duration of their trip and even went as far as to quiz her on what she'd learned before allowing her to step foot in the Ministry.

Now, Hermione understood why. She was a person of importance and it showed in the way that people who recognised her greeted her with a polite nod or address.

They passed a sculpture of muggles, forced under the power of witches and wizards, which only made Hermione fear for her parents' safety yet again.

She hadn't given much thought to how she may have been reacting externally to the grand network that was the Ministry of Magic, not until Snape had pointed out that hyperventilating will only up her chances of people engaging her in conversation.

"Just stay calm," he told her for the hundredth time as they approached a department that Hermione believed to be dedicated to the use of underage magic.

"I'm doing my very best," she assured him.

He stopped at a crossroads in the network of corridors, looking around carefully, before ushering her left with a hand placed on her back between her shoulder blades as if she needed the guidance.

The corridor they were going down had two doors on each wall and then one other door right at the far end, facing them. The walls were black and the floors the same, quite normal for the Ministry. The doors were all painted white except for the one at the end that was painted mahogany.

Hermione found it peculiar that there was no one around and remembered Snape's letter saying something about the room being unguarded.

Severus stopped at the door at the end, the one that was painted mahogany with a golden doorknob. It seemed like any other door, only– at the average eye-level– there was an eyeball poking out from the wood.

Snape motioned for Hermione to step in front of it.

"Me?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, but then remembered who she was posing as.

Snape gave a nod and, with a shaky breath, Hermione stepped in front of the eye.

Nothing happened.

She expected it to at least move, but it stayed deadly still. For a moment, she just stared at it and willed the door to open, but it didn't. She sighed, turning to Snape so that she could complain that it wasn't working, but the door suddenly made a loud clicking noise, similar to that of a lock turning.

Hesitantly, Hermione lifted her hand and turned the knob, pushing the door open slowly.

Inside, they came face-to-face with another long hallway, the walls home to eighteen sets of archways with golden numbers at the top of each. When she looked at them properly, Hermione realised they were dates– years to be exact– and there was one archway for each year that an underage witch or wizard could have been born.

"Wow…"

"I suggest you find your year and then your hourglass," Severus said, "before we are caught in here."

"My hourglass?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, following Snape's gaze to her archway and walking inside.

Her jaw went slack when she saw the shelves stacked with hourglasses, more golden writing on the bases of them. Instead of numbers this time, however, they were names. Hermione looked around, recognising a few names from Hogwarts.

"So I just have to look at every single one of these until I find my own?"

Snape nodded in response and Hermione sighed, heading off into the sea of hourglasses.

"How exactly do they work?" the brunette asked.

"I'm not entirely sure, all I know is that they run out on a witch or wizard's seventeenth birthday and the Trace is removed," Snape didn't look at Hermione as he spoke, too busy browsing the shelves for the Gryffindor's name.

"That's–" Hermione started, then she stopped in her tracks. "Professor, I found it!"

In an instant, Snape was at Hermione's side and looking at the golden hourglass that was labelled with her name.

"What now?"

The new Headmaster pressed his lips into a thin line. "Now, we hope that the spell works."

Hermione watched Severus brandish his wand, pointing it at the hourglass with a concentrated expression. She wasn't sure what she expected to happen but she found it oddly beautiful when, wordlessly, a green mist escaped the tip of the man's wand, wrapping itself around the hourglass. When it disappeared, the hourglass was left nameless and completely drained.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "That was… easy?"

Snape looked to Hermione with a grim expression. "It was not. The spell uses, unfortunately, a lot of energy."

"What exactly is the spell?" she asked.

He shook his head. "May I remind you that I am still ' _loyal_ ' to the Dark Lord and, since He has taken control of the Ministry, it would be inappropriate for me to tell you how to remove the Trace from any underage witch or wizard. Not to mention, the Ministry have ways of telling when a Trace has been removed too soon. We just have to hope that we can get around that for now."

Hermione frowned, looking down at her feet. "Oh."

"That said," the potions master continued, "there was a request made by Bellatrix which I must fulfil."

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Severus walked without a word back the way he came, stopping at a particular hourglass and aiming his wand. Hermione hurried to catch up with him, managing to catch the letters on the base of the hourglass right before they were wisped away.

"Ginny? Bellatrix requested you remove the Trace from Ginny?"

"If there is one thing I've learnt about Bellatrix in all my years serving the Dark Lord, it is never to question her. However, if you find yourself feeling particularly brave later, you are welcome to ask her yourself."

Hermione gave a nod.

Suddenly, the sound of the main door clicking made both of them turn their heads. When it was followed by the shrill voice of Dolores Umbridge, both imposters turned to each other in panic.

"Mafalda, don't be ridiculous. Who do you believe would have successfully removed the Trace from two witches?"

The voice of Mafalda Hopkirk followed. "I'm telling you, Dolores–"

"Let's find out for ourselves," Dolores cut her off.

"Professor, your Polyjuice has worn off," Hermione whispered frantically as Snape returned to his usual form.

Hermione couldn't do anything except stare at her old potions professor in panic. Here she was, still looking like Mafalda Hopkirk, well on her way to turning back into Hermione Granger, with Dolores Umbridge and Mafalda Hopkirk about to round the corner.

Bella had told her to apparate at the slightest sign of danger, and Hermione was about to, before she saw Dolores turn the corner and the locket that resided around her neck.

 _Surely not,_ she thought to herself, but the locket resembled the exact fake that Harry had shown her the last time she saw him.

Almost immediately, all her plans to escape fell away. She needed to get that locket.

Before Mafalda and Dolores could lay eyes on her, Snape cast a knock-back jinx on her and she fell to the floor, clutching her wand in her pocket.

"Dolores," Snape greeted her, wand aimed at Hermione.

Mafalda gasped when she came face-to-face with the mirror of herself. "And who, exactly, are you?"

"Better yet," Dolores chirped, targeting Snape more than she did the intruder, "how did you get in here with her, Severus?"

"I followed her," he explained calmly, not tearing his eyes from Hermione, "as soon as I realised she might not be who she was supposed to be."

"You didn't think to call a guard?" Hopkirk hissed.

Hermione found herself in the middle of a rather interesting dynamic.

"I was curious as to what our intruder was up to," Snape explained, "we very rarely get people attempting to break into this department."

"I suppose you're right," Mafalda calmed down; however, Dolores did not.

"I demand to know what your business is!" she snapped down at Hermione, but never gave her the chance to reply before turning to Snape again. "Were any hourglasses tampered with?"

Snape shook his head. "Not from what I can see."

Hermione's breathing escalated when Dolores drew and aimed her wand at her. "Who are you?"

Hermione didn't answer, instead eyeing up her competition. There were three of them, but she was sure Snape would only put in enough effort to make it look convincing, so that made it two and a half opponents– skilled ones– against her unpractised and rusty self.

Despite the odds being clearly against her, Hermione raised her wand and took out Mafalda with a Stupefy immediately. She didn't even have the chance to deflect it and, while Dolores was busy watching her college fly back into the wall, Hermione found her feet.

She caught Snape's pleading expression in the corner of her eye. He wanted her to stop, to apparate and get out before the Polyjuice ran out, but Hermione needed the locket.

She engaged in a duel against Severus and Delores, throwing spells backwards and forwards, deflecting Snape's more than she cast spells back at him, but putting most of her energy into trying to bring down Umbridge.

Blue, purple, white, red and green all shot from their wands as they duelled until Hermione caught the Ministry worker with _Immobulus_.

For show, Snape let the Expelliarmus she fired at him next hit, his wand flying off to the other side of the room where he hurried to retrieve it.

Instead of going after him, Hermione turned to Delores and plucked the necklace from around her neck, apparating back to the alley they'd met in just as Snape returned and she felt her Polyjuice begin to wear off.

As soon as she landed, she was wrapped in a warm embrace and Bellatrix placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Are you okay? Were you hurt? Where's Severus?"

"One question at a time, Bella," Hermione snuggled into the dark witch more, not wanting to leave the comfort of the cuddle she'd been pulled into. "I'm okay. I'm probably bruised, but it was just a knock-back jinx that Snape performed himself, all for show. He's still at the Ministry, but I'm going to wait here for him to come back."

"What happened? Why did Snape hurt you? I swear, I'm going to kill hi–"

Bellatrix's rant was cut short when Hermione pulled the locket from her robe pocket and held it up for Bellatrix to see.

"This," she explained, "is what happened."

"You found one of the Dark Lord's Horcruxes," Bellatrix slowly released the girl she was holding, conflict flickering in her eyes.

"I did," Hermione nodded, quickly stashing it away again, "around Dolores Umbridge's neck."

" _Around her ne–_ Fucking hell, Hermione, what on earth were you doing confronting Umbridge?"

Hermione launched into her explanation, hoping that Snape would return safely soon.

— — —

About half an hour later, Snape returned.

He glared at Hermione, lip curled disgustedly. "How stupid could you possibly be? If your Polyjuice had warn off, we would both be well on our way to our deaths!"

"Now, now, Severus," Bellatrix stepped between him and the woman she loved protectively, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a few steps when she felt he was standing too close. "Did you do as I asked?"

"Of course. Consider us even," he replied grimly.

"Oh, not at all," Bellatrix's lips tugged up at the corners ever so slightly, "because what I'm about to tell you may just save your life."

Severus narrowed his eyes at the dark witch as she removed her hand from his chest and circled him once.

"I'm sure you're aware that the Dark Lord has been after the Elder Wand for quite a while now."

"I am."

"Well, the most of what he knows about how it works is a lie. He will come to believe that possession of the Elder Wand is transferred by killing the current owner, however, this is not the case."

"Why does this matter to me?" Snape asked.

"Because the Wand's last owner was Dumbledore," Bellatrix said.

Hermione watched Snape's face contort with the realisation that washed over him. "How _is_ ownership transferred?"

"You don't need to know that," the Slytherin woman shrugged. "I just thought I'd give you the chance to save your skin."

Bellatrix took Hermione's hand and started pulling her into side-long apparition, but Snape called after them, stopping the dark witch in her tracks.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry?" Bella turned, eyebrows raised.

"Why did you tell me?" Snape's eyes held Bellatrix's tensely.

There was obviously a lot of bad blood between them, which made Hermione understand why he would question her.

Bellatrix pursed her lips, thinking about her answer for a moment before she smiled slightly. "You brought her back in one piece."

— — —

Once back in the safehouse, which Hermione had apparated to herself this time since she now was able to without the Ministry knowing, she also took great delight in using simple spells as she wandered about the house, using her wand to rearrange Bellatrix's bookshelf and to mend the peeling plaster on the wall.

Bellatrix watched her with a smile from her favourite armchair until Hermione caught her looking and stuck her tongue out at her, making the Slytherin laugh.

"Can you do wandless magic again?" she asked the brunette.

"I don't know," Hermione shrugged, going to sit herself in Bellatrix's lap.

Bella wrapped her arms around the young witch. "Try it."

"What do you want me to do?"

Bellatrix thought about it for a moment before she held out her hand, palm facing up, and slowly, a red rose blossomed from it. "Take it."

Hermione took the rose from Bella's hand, smelling it with a wide smile across her face. She admired it, at how perfect it was, every petal and every thorn.

Gently, Bellatrix tucked the loose strands of hair that had fallen in Hermione's face behind her ear, turning her head gently with the tip of her index finger so she could kiss the Gryffindor's lips.

"Bella," the brunette murmured against the other woman's lips, "I…"

"Hm?" Bellatrix pulled away enough to look at Hermione's face.

Hermione looked into the dark eyes that stared back at her– eyes that she could lose herself in for hours on end if she let herself– and froze, conflict rising inside of her again.

"Why is everything so complicated?" she settled for after a long silence, resting her head on Bella's shoulder.

Bella rested her head back against the back of her armchair, stroking the mass of curls she was cuddling as a weight pressed down on her chest, an emotional pain she swore she'd never subject herself to again.

"I'll let you know."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** _Arguably a rather dark chapter, but certainly not the worst. Sorry it's taken me a week. I've started my new job early . anyway, thank you for all your reviews 3 I love you all. Thank you to DarkSnow3 for beta reading (good to have you back, G) 3_

— — —

"So, we're sorted?" Bellatrix asked after they'd gone through their plan to get into Hogwarts, not looking up from her book, slumped in her armchair.

"Almost, just waiting for Snape to give us the all clear, you know, after the _stunt_ I pulled at the Ministry," Hermione said sheepishly, glancing at the locket which was sitting in a gap on the bookshelf.

Bellatrix caught Hermione glance at it out of the corner of her eye and, still facing her novel, asked, "What do you plan to do with it?"

"Destroy it," the brunette shrugged, then she laughed. "I don't suppose you know how?"

Bellatrix didn't say a word, just continuing to flick through her book.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, shuffling on her knees from her position on the carpet over to Bellatrix's chair.

"You know how to destroy them, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a terrible liar."

Bella's eyes lifted to meet Hermione's for a moment before she tilted her chin up and said, "I am a tremendous liar."

The Gryffindor rolled her eyes. "Not to me."

Attempting to hold the gaze as long as possible, the Slytherin found herself unable to uphold her pretence any longer and she sighed, closing her book and leaning back in her chair, almost pouting. "Perhaps I have a theory."

"Tell me?"

Bella's eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. "I can't."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

The dark witch's voice came out small and quiet, "You'll kill Him."

Here it was, the divide between them, Bellatrix's last remaining shreds of loyalty to Voldemort and Hermione's desire to have him dead. The silence that fell was deafening.

"Bella," the young witch crawled up into the chair with her– as she did a lot these days– and waited for arms to wrap around her. They never did. "Bella, he's going to kill you and you said it yourself that if he sees what we've been doing then he's going to kill me, too."

Bellatrix's eyes flickered up to Hermione's possessively and arms found their way around the brunette.

Hermione felt a pang of guilt– she knew it was wrong to manipulate Bellatrix in such a way– but then she remembered how far the Slytherin had come and how much she'd changed, and she knew that if she could just get Bella to see that there were other ways in the world then perhaps there would be a way to make whatever they had together last beyond their arrangement.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," the dark witch forced out.

"Then tell me about the wand," Hermione said immediately, "did you find it? Was it with Dumbledore?"

"As I suspected," the dark witch nodded. "But I don't want to talk about that, either…" she smirked and was about to lean in to kiss the girl in her arms before an owl flew in through the open window, startling them both.

Hermione was off of Bellatrix's lap in an instant, taking the letter from between the bird's beak and tearing it open. From behind her, the Death Eater rolled her eyes.

"Another love letter from Severus?"

Hermione shot a glare at the woman behind her back and read the letter. It consisted only of a date and a time, signed with the letter S at the bottom.

"Two days, we have two days," she announced.

"That's a relief, I'm exhausted," Bellatrix sunk further into her chair and pulled her attention back to her book. Then, with a pensive look, she glanced up at her lover and watched her browse for her own book to read.

Hermione eventually sighed at the shelf when she couldn't find something she hadn't already read, making Bellatrix laugh lightly.

"What?" the brunette turned to the dark witch with raised eyebrows.

"Nothing, sweetheart," Bellatrix said mockingly.

Hermione scoffed, turning back to the bookshelf and plucking for a book on wandless magic that she had already read twice. She took her seat by the fire and was about to open the book before the Slytherin interrupted her.

"Have you given much more thought to learning Parseltongue?"

"No," the younger woman shook her head. "I still don't think I'll be able to do it."

"Allow me to offer an incentive," Bella sat up straighter, prouder, "if you can learn how to say 'yes' and 'no' by eight o'clock then I'll give you a present."

"What is it?" the Gryffindor asked.

"A surprise," the Death Eater shrugged, standing from her chair and straightening her robes which she was yet to change out of.

Hermione frowned. "How do I know it's worth it?"

A smirk spread across the older woman's lips. "You're going to have to trust me."

— — —

Hermione, never having been one to turn down a challenge, accepted Bellatrix's proposal and they spent the following hours until 8pm with Hermione attempting to grasp a basic word in a language that was far from just foreign.

Bellatrix reminded her how well she was doing when she finally understood 'yes' but, when the clock struck eight, she wasn't even close to understanding the word 'no'.

"Come now," Bellatrix pulled an exhausted Hermione into a hug, "follow me."

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked when she was released and the Slytherin started to lead the way towards the stairs.

"To get you your present, or part of it."

Hermione followed curiously. "But you said I'd only get a present if I learnt both words."

Bellatrix glanced back at her lover with a smile as they approached her bedroom door. "I was going to give it to you anyway."

Hermione continued after Bellatrix until the older woman stopped at the chest at the end of her bed. Slowly, she unlocked it with a flick of her fingers and lifted the lid.

Inside, there was a variety of different boxes and palm-sized locked boxes. Inside one, which Bellatrix opened, was a key.

"My vault key."

"Why your vault key? You're _giving_ this to me?"

"Firstly, I'm going to be keeping ahold of it, I'm not giving you the key. However, you now know where it is kept so, should you need anything, I'll authorise the goblin who shows me to my vault every time I visit to allow you to access it. In my vault, you'll find a lot of things that may prove themselves useful to you in the future and I want you to be able to access them if you need to," Bellatrix looked sadly into Hermione's eyes as she spoke, then brightened up a bit as she continued, "but that's not the only reason I'm taking you to my vault tomorrow."

"You're taking me tomorrow?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. Honestly, she'd never given much thought as to what it might be like inside the vault of such a rich pureblooded wizard. "Why?"

"Because in there is a particularly oddly enchanted piece of jewellery which I would like you to have."

Hermione blinked. "Jewellery? What is it?"

"That's enough for today, don't you think?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "How about a bath?"

"But—"

"No buts," Bellatrix shook her head, standing and slipping her fingers around the back of the Gryffindor's neck. "Come, take a bath with me."

Hermione looked into Bellatrix's eyes and what she saw there surprised her. The look was almost pleading, desperate. It was also, however, a look she couldn't say no to. Without thinking about it, she slowly pushed the robes off of the dark witch's shoulders and pulled on the lace at Bellatrix's back to undo her corset.

It dropped to the floor after a considerable amount of fiddling, leaving the Death Eater's top half exposed.

"So, do you get elves to prepare your baths?"

Bellatrix shook her head at Hermione. "Not in situations like this."

The dark witch snapped her fingers and, behind her through the set of double doors that lead to her bathroom, the lights came on and the water started running in the massive built-in tub. Hermione saw out of the corner of her eye that the lavender-coloured bottle of bubble bath tipped a decent amount of the syrupy liquid into the water on its own.

Hermione found the way Bellatrix's eyes had never left her own while she did her magic very sexy and she giggled slightly before her hands roamed down to her lover's hips, banishing the underwear there down to around her ankles.

She then bit her lip before dropping to her knees slowly, placing kisses down Bella's tummy as she did, so that she could remove the black leather boots that the Slytherin was wearing.

Bellatrix maintained eye contact with the Gryffindor while she removed her shoes and socks, leaving her entirely naked.

"Are you happy?"

Hermione didn't break eye contact once while she rose to her feet again, giving one nod. "Yes."

Bellatrix turned towards the bath, walking slowly up to it, knowing that Hermione's eyes were following her every move. She flicked her fingers towards the tap, the water supply ceasing immediately. Then, elegantly, she climbed into the bubbles.

Hermione found herself quickly removing her shirt and jeans, shoes and socks, lastly dropping her underwear as she left a trail behind her of clothing.

Bellatrix's eyes raked over her appreciatively as she stood at the side of the bath. "Close the doors?"

"You just want me to turn around, don't you?"

The slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Bella's mouth.

Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach, a feeling she didn't think she'd ever stop feeling when Bellatrix looked at her like that, and she prayed to the Gods that she always would.

She felt Bellatrix's eyes on her as she turned and closed the sliding doors, a lot like patio doors, Hermione realised. The perfectly white painted wooden edges and frosted glass looked so modern it was out of place in the safehouse. She imagined that Bellatrix had it built in recently.

Walking back, she slipped into the bath and lay back, positioned between Bellatrix's legs with the dark witch's arms wrapped around her, holding her up under her arms and linking together at her belly. She rested her head back onto Bella's shoulder, smiling contently as bubbles and perfectly warm water splashed up against her.

"How exactly do you get into Gringotts?" Hermione asked.

"You'll find it all out tomorrow," Bella kissed Hermione's temple, "but for now, allow me to enjoy your company."

— — —

Hermione should have expected that Bellatrix was going to use Polyjuice potion to get inside of Gringotts. What she wasn't expecting, however, was the fact that the witch used the same Polyjuice potion every time and that she had stolen the identity of a muggle woman.

She had explained that the particular goblin who helped her knew of the secret identity, all she needed to do was go in when he was working at the front desk.

Hermione had stared with her mouth agape as Bella had handed her another vial of Polyjuice.

"You'll need to drink this one," she'd explained, "so that your identity is concealed, too."

Hermione hadn't done much except follow Bellatrix's lead until they were finally approaching the front desk in the wizarding bank, both with different identities. That was when she recognised the goblin that sat there as the one who had dealt with her the day she'd come to withdraw all her money.

Bellatrix approached the goblin as a medium-height dark brunette woman, dressed in a smart plain black robe with flat leather shoes. Hermione followed in a similar outfit, posing as a tall mousy blonde.

Bellatrix lay her wand and vault key on the desk and the goblin looked up at them, then looking up at Bellatrix. He raised an eyebrow. "It's been a while."

"Just take me to my vault," Bellatrix sighed tiresomely.

The goblin gave a nod. He hopped down off of his chair, handing Bellatrix back her wand and keeping the key to himself.

When they were out of earshot of other goblins, he asked, "Who is your companion, Madame Lestrange? You don't usually invite people along."

Hermione looked to Bella who nodded at her, silent permission for her to say who she was. "Hermione Granger, you showed me to my vault not long ago."

He chuckled as he stopped at a cart, opening the door so they could get inside. "I remember well. I told you if you ever needed assistance accessing your vault I could provide it for you. Would you like to take me up on that offer today?"

Hermione wondered where they were going in the cart, but instead of asking she just nodded her head. "Yes, actually. I think a visit to my vault would be beneficial."

"Very well."

On their way to what Hermione assumed was the level Bellatrix's vault was kept, Bella reminded Hermione that she didn't need to withdraw any of her own money, with what she had, but Hermione didn't back down. She said that she wanted to have some of her own money, that it would make her feel less guilty about using all of the Slytherin's, to which the Death Eater only grumbled and turned her attention to the winding journey down underground.

Bellatrix smiled over at Hermione when the goblin wasn't looking, taking her hand and squeezing it, letting it go before the goblin could see. In fact, their entire journey was full of small gestures as such.

When they were standing outside Bellatrix's vault, having been through some terrifying experiences in Hermione's books, Hermione looked over at Bellatrix.

They were both themselves now, having gone under an enchanted waterfall, and Hermione realised why Bellatrix had packed more Polyjuice for them both.

"You have to pass a dragon to get to your vault, that's a bit extreme. And the way they keep it, the poor dragon…" the Gryffindor commented as the goblin began unlocking the door.

"It's security," Bella shrugged. "Goblin, while we're here, I would like to authorise Hermione to have access to my vault at any given time until I revoke this access. She may present her wand and the vault key as I do and you are to take her to the vault as you do for me. Understand?"

The goblin turned, looking quite unimpressed, to look at the dark witch. "In doing so, I would be breaching a number of laws—"

"Aren't you already?" the Slytherin cocked an eyebrow and the goblin opened his mouth to speak, only then deciding that what he was going to say wasn't important and he snapped it shut.

"Yes, Madam," he settled for.

After using the key, he pressed his hand to the carved surface and a ripple went through it before something clicked and the door slowly swung open.

Hermione stared in awe at the silver and gold that was laid out before her. The vault was massive, bigger than most rooms she's been in, and she felt her jaw go slack as she followed Bellatrix inside after the older woman had ordered the goblin to stay outside.

The door clicked shut behind them and Hermione wondered how they planned on getting out, but the worry was quickly replaced with curiosity when she felt herself being drawn to a prettily engraved silver plate and she reached out to touch it.

"Don't!" Bella snapped, then softer after Hermione had jumped and snatched her hand back. "Don't touch anything, most of it's enchanted to multiply."

"Oh," Hermione gave a nod, "of course it is."

"Here," Bellatrix walked over to a shelf and pulled down a dark green jewellery box. She turned to Hermione. "This is your present."

Hermione glanced down at the box as Bellatrix opened it. It was a very small key, a lot like the vault key only it was golden and there was a gold chain that looped itself around the stopper of the glass bottle it was kept in. Hermione had to admit that it was quite pretty.

"It's gorgeous," Hermione reached into the box to pick it up but Bellatrix pulled the box out of reach.

"I used to wear this necklace all the time. It doesn't seem like much but it's still… special to me. I want you to have it, but you _must_ look after it if you take it."

Hermione looked at Bellatrix's uneasy expression and nodded reassuringly. "Bella, I love it. I'll never take it off."

Hesitantly, Bellatrix offered the necklace to Hermione again and watched the Gryffindor put it on. She couldn't help the small smile. "It suits you."

Hermione leaned in and placed a kiss on Bellatrix's lips. "Thank you."

Bellatrix put the box back where she'd found it, leaving it seemingly undisturbed on the shelf while Hermione was allowed to wander. Of course, she was careful not to touch anything. There were golden cups and silver chalices, piles of gold and coin, and Hermione stared in awe at some of the jewellery that was displayed, absentmindedly fiddling with the small finger-sized bottle around her neck.

However, Bellatrix soon called her back towards the door, knocking on it so that the Goblin would know to let them out.

— — —

Once leaving Gringotts, the new dose of Polyjuice still active, the two decided to browse through Diagon Alley before leaving. Bellatrix had jokingly suggested visiting Borgin and Burke's, to which Hermione had rolled her eyes and shoved her playfully into the wall next to them.

They mainly laughed between themselves at how oblivious everyone was, before deciding that they were both tired and wanted to return home. As they turned the corner they planned to disapparate from, however, someone grabbed both of their arms unexpectedly and they were pulled into side-long apparition without consent.

Landing left them both disorientated and Hermione quickly found herself held in a headlock with a wand pressed to her temple. She looked over at Bellatrix beside her, held in the same position, as Voldemort stepped into view.

"Bellatrix," he motioned towards her with his wand hand, which was equally inviting and threatening, "how lovely of you to join us."

Hermione realised that they were in a graveyard and she wondered whether this was the same graveyard Harry had been transferred to when he'd grabbed the Triwizard Cup, though she doubted it.

The afternoon sun was blazing down on top of their heads and was warm, despite the harsh cold September had brought on. Hermione wondered what the Death Eaters were doing out in broad daylight like this, although it didn't seem like this was the type of graveyard to be visited often.

"My Lord," Bellatrix greeted him stiffly.

From behind him, Willis Arnold stepped out with a proud smirk on his face. "Bella, dear, I did warn you when you were younger that it's not all about brute strength and willpower, but intelligence, too."

"Bloody good thing I have both then, isn't it?" the dark witch said back airily, flinching when the wand to her temple pressed into her skin harder.

"Willis came to me with some interesting information," the Dark Lord addressed his followers, despite the fact that he was obviously talking to Bellatrix alone. "He told me that he believed that Bellatrix was protecting a muggle-born girl."

"Protecting?" Bellatrix laughed, sounding so crazed that the men holding her leaned away involuntarily. "My Lord, I can assure you, I am not doing anything of the sort."

 _It's all for show,_ Hermione reminded herself.

"You cannot lie to me, Bellatrix," something about the way Voldemort kept saying the Slytherin woman's name put Hermione on edge and she shifted uneasily in the grasp of the two Death Eaters which were holding her.

A bitter expression contorted the dark witch's face.

"I can only assume," he continued, now holding Bellatrix's gaze intensely, "that if you do not care then you will not mind Travers disposing of her as he sees fit."

Bellatrix's jaw set as Travers ran a finger down Hermione's cheek, smiling cruelly at her.

"Well?" Voldemort prompted.

Bellatrix stared into his eyes and Hermione could tell that, should her hands have been free, then the dark witch would have drawn her wand.

Silence befell the graveyard and Hermione felt her heart sink when Bellatrix didn't make one single objection.

Voldemort sighed, almost as if it pained him to give his following order. "Well, Travers, I suppose you get your wish. You may dispose of her."

"Don't you fucking touch her!" Bellatrix spat, making Voldemort and his followers freeze.

Travers looked to his lord for the all-clear, but the pale man only held up his hand to him, a smile stretching across his face.

"Was it so hard to tell the truth? There was a time when you were honest with me, was there not?" Voldemort's voice turned slightly condescending towards the end. "Let's go back to that, Bella."

The use of her lover's nickname from the Dark Lord's mouth made Hermione feel sick and she watched as Bella's eyes flickered with an emotion Hermione had learnt to associate with want in the Slytherin.

Did she want her old life back?

"Come," Voldemort offered out his hand to Bellatrix, waving his free one at the Death Eaters holding her so they would release her, "let me offer you a chance to right your wrongs, a chance to redeem yourself for killing Harry Potter."

"Get out of my head," Bellatrix spat, hands balled into fists at her sides. "Or at least, if you don't, have the decency to acknowledge that I wasn't the one to kill Potter."

Despite Bella's snarky reply, Voldemort's hand remained for a prolonged moment before he quickly snatched it back, hissing something in Parseltongue. He then said, keeping to the language that he knew no one would understand, something else. This time he was calmer, more composed.

Hermione recognised Bellatrix's one-word answer as 'yes'.

Voldemort turned, his cloak billowing out behind him as he faced away from Bellatrix.

Hermione turned to the older woman questioningly and saw the look of regret on her face. She knew that Voldemort was a master Legilimens and wondered what he had seen in Bellatrix's head to elicit such a reaction.

He turned to one of the Death Eaters and hissed something quietly at him in English, but it was so hushed that Hermione couldn't catch what it was. The Death Eater quickly disapparated.

When Voldemort turned again, he spoke to Travers. "Get rid of her."

" _No_!" Bellatrix began to lunge for Travers but the other two Death Eaters who were originally holding her grabbed her and held her down. "Let her go!"

Hermione thrashed against Travers as he attempted to drag her off into one of the crypts. "Bella!"

"Don't you dare _touch_ her!" Bellatrix trashed harder, screaming at Travers, and Hermione was dragged backwards forcibly, watching the equally crazed and distraught look on her face as she was dragged into the stone interior of the crypt.

The heavy door slowly swung shut behind them and Hermione felt the crushing fear of being left alone with a notoriously cruel Death Eater with no Trace to drag Severus to her rescue.

When they were down the stairs, in a small enclosed area which contained four stone coffins, she barely had time to register her dimly-lit surroundings before the back of Travers' hand connected with her face.

"Bella…" Hermione croaked out, a feeble attempt at calling the dark witch's name. "Please, stop."

"Unlike Bellatrix up there," Travers smiled evilly down at Hermione as she managed to haul herself up into a standing position again, her head throbbing and her vision doubled, "I don't disobey the Dark Lord's orders."

"So, what?" Hermione replied, holding onto the stone of one of the coffins for support. "You're just his dog? You do everything your master says?"

Travers snarled at Hermione, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking it back so hard she felt strands of it being pulled out, and she cried.

"How dare you?!"

She flinched as he spat the words in her ear.

"You are nothing, mudblood," he tugged on her hair harshly so she dropped to her knees with an agonising thud.

She groaned painfully as he held her there.

"Don't you see? This is your rightful place," he said in as sweet a tone as his raspy voice could muster, pulling on her hair harder.

Hermione cried, fearing what would happen next. "Please… please, don't do this."

"Keep your mouth shut," the smile that spread across Travers' face was cruel, arguably crueller than Bellatrix's, "or I'll find a way of occupying it."

Bile rose in Hermione's throat and she snapped her jaw shut immediately. Unfortunately, she was in no position to call his bluff. She could not get to her wand without him knocking her down again and there was no one to save her. Her head was also still throbbing and her double vision had changed to triple vision. She was better off hoping and praying that he would make her _disposal_ quick and painless.

The hand on her hair did not ease, but a wand tip pressed itself to her chin, the pressure increasing in an attempt to pry her jaw open.

Hermione cried, keeping her mouth locked shut as long as she could until the pressure of the wand digging into her chin was too much and she let it go slack.

"Please…" she cried.

Travers didn't have much chance to say or do anything else. The explosion that echoed from above drew his attention away and it was quickly followed by the sound of the crypt door being blown off with a spell.

Blood stains splattered the robes of the person who stood at the top of the stairs, crimson covering their hands and smeared across their face. Hermione followed Travers' gaze to the woman there and couldn't help but sigh in relief when she met Bellatrix's eyes.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:** _Hey guys, I'm sorry it's been so fucking long. I'm working full time and I'm tired 24/7 so… but I'm much better than I have been so should have updates out every week now. Fingers crossed. Hope you're all still here._

 _This chapter has NOT been beta read, so if you spot mistakes and you have the time please PM me and I'll change them._

 _Thank you for all your lovely reviews. They're the best notifications to wake up to :) xox_

— — —

Travers' hand on Hermione's hair immediately released and he kicked the brunette violently backwards before turning to Bellatrix at the top of the stairs, wand drawn and ready to attack.

Hermione's head fell against the stone corner of a coffin and black spots covered her vision as she grappled for something to pull herself up on. She expected Bellatrix to cast Crucio but she did not, she simply slowly made her way down the cold stone steps into the crypt, her eyes never leaving Travers except for the one time she glanced at Hermione to check that she was alive.

"That better not have been what it looked like, Travers," the dark witch said calmly, almost conversationally.

Travers, obviously shocked by Bella's placid exterior, only blinked.

"I'll have your head if it was," the Slytherin laugh lightly, as if she had just told a bad joke, and her eyes fell on Hermione again as the Gryffindor found her feet and leaned against a coffin for support.

When those dark eyes flickered over her, Hermione could see Bellatrix clinging to her sanity with her every fibre, determined not to lose her cool.

"Hermione, darling," she asked soothingly, "what did he do to you?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out and, after a moment of trying to ache out a simple word, she simply burst into tears, nodding her head in an effort to answer the lingering question.

Was _it what is looked like?_

Bellatrix turned back to Travers with a sharp intake of breath, wand raised. A hiss escaped her lips.

"I hope you're ready to burn in hell," Bellatrix's words were forced, harsh, but the incantation that followed was in a light and innocent tone. " _Incendio_."

Travers burst into flames. The cry of pain made a smile to stretch across Bella's lips.

" _Crucio_ ," she added, and the flames remained while the man was placed under the Cruciatus Curse.

"Join in, my darling, it's fun," Bella cackled.

Hermione wiped away her tears, snivelling as she shook her head.

Bellatrix flicked her wand towards Travers and the flames ceased.

He lay on the floor, clothes charred and skin burnt, while Bellatrix approached her lover slowly.

She cupped Hermione's face in her hands, immediately using a spell to clean up her wounds, and placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead. When she pulled away and dropped her hands, Hermione's face was left covered with smears of red from the blood on Bella's hands.

The dark witch turned to her fellow Death Eater again, smiling. "There is no curse painful enough."

"Bella, let's just go home," Hermione croaked.

Bella, however, wasn't listening. "The Cruciatus Curse would be a kindness."

The man on the floor groaned painfully, shaking. The Slytherin stepped up to him and pouted mockingly.

"What shall we do with him, Hermione?"

"Just kill him and get it over with," Hermione surprised herself not only with the harshness of her words but the words themselves.

She was not one to indorse killing, but the bitter taste of the bile still remained in her mouth and her mind began to conjure different scenarios, all which included Bellatrix not making it to her rescue in time.

 _Travers deserves to die, only god knows how many women he's raped or how many he will in the future,_ Hermione thought in an attempt to justify the actions to come.

"Have I converted you?" Bellatrix asked lightly, laughing.

Bellatrix aimed her wand at the crippled figure on the floor. " _Crucio_."

Hermione saw the hatred in Bella's eyes and they sparkled as she tapered off the curse.

"Oops, wrong spell," she said like it was an easy mistake.

"Just do it," Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, still feeling unstable but better than she had been feeling five minutes ago, nonetheless.

It was then that the brunette realised Bellatrix couldn't do it because she couldn't let go, she couldn't let Travers die that easy a death after what he tried to do.

But Hermione couldn't take watching Bellatrix torture another being, even if it was someone as repulsive as Travers.

"If you don't do it, I will," she announced shakily.

Bellatrix turned to Hermione and, while she was conscious that the girl had been through a lot and was not in much of a state to cast many spells, she was also eager to have her experience the drug that had captivated her for so many years. She was aware of how soul destroying it was, and a dominant part of her told her to kill Travers and take Hermione home, but the selfish part of her wanted Hermione to kill so desperately that she only nodded.

"Then do it," the she smiled proudly, "because I plan to keep this going all day and all night."

Hermione looked helplessly at Bellatrix. She hadn't expected her to call her bluff, and now she felt like she had something to prove.

She looked to the man who had attempted to defile her and, as the hatred boiled, she raised her wand.

Bellatrix went and stood behind Hermione, wrapping her arms around the Gryffindor's waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Say it clearly, like you mean it. Okay?"

Hermione closed her eyes, getting lost momentarily in the feeling of Bella's nose nuzzling into her neck, before she pulled her attention back to the task at hand.

"I know you can do it."

Hermione could still feel Travers' wand pressed to her jaw, still feel his hand in her hair.

"Do it, Hermione."

She felt tears slip down her cheeks and she aimed her wand.

But she hesitated. As she did so, Bellatrix caught the distraught look on her lover's face and she kicked herself for even suggesting that Hermione use an Unforgivable.

Hermione, determined as always, began to speak the incantation, but Bellatrix wordlessly beat her to the spell and, with a flash of green from her wand, Travers' body went limp on the floor.

"Now come, let's leave him as a message for the Dark Lord. If He or anyone else lays a finger on you again, I'll slit their throats."

— — —

Returning home, Hermione found herself in quite the state. She wasn't sure how she felt about the gentle touches Bellatrix was giving her, or any touch at all, and she assumed her spot on the carpet by the fire before– mere moments later– announcing that she was going to have a bath.

Bellatrix offered to accompany her, but Hermione quickly turned her down.

Bella wasn't sure how to deal with this version of Hermione, the one who didn't even want to read or talk, so she decided to leave her be and remained confident that Hermione would return when she was ready.

The Gryffindor lost track of the time, only hauling herself out of the bathtub after scrubbing every inch of her body when the water had turned cold.

She dried her own hair, happy that she could now do it herself, and stood naked in front of the full length mirror with a sigh. It was odd, how dirty she felt after such a long bath. Usually, she'd feel spotless after a soak like that, but now she felt as if she needed to burn the skin she was wearing and find a new one.

Her fingers reached up and touched her chin, lingering over the small red mark that Travers' wand had left.

She sucked in a shaky breath through her nose, exhaling unevenly through barely parted lips.

 _Pull yourself together._

She turned to the door and, having not even heard Bellatrix come in, jumped when she came face to face with the dark witch. She instantly wrapped her arms around her own body, covering herself.

"Now, now, why are you so shy all of a sudden?" Bellatrix walked over to Hermione, holding her gaze and not letting it flicker anywhere else out of respect.

"I'm not feeling too good," Hermione explained, avoiding Bella's eyes.

Bellatrix thought about how much longer she would have loved to torture Travers, how much the bastard had deserved it, as she wrapped her arms around Hermione's naked form and held her.

No one said anything, there wasn't really much to say, and Bellatrix knew Hermione needed her to hold her and comfort her more than anything.

"It'll be okay, my love," she eventually whispered when Hermione started to pull away. "He's not a problem anymore."

Hermione nodded. "I just… I need something to take my mind off of it."

"Would you like to learn more Parseltongue?" Bella asked and she gently played with the tiny glass bottle around Hermione's neck.

Hermione nodded again.

So, with the occasional kiss and gentle touch, Bellatrix helped Hermione dress into the most comfortable pyjamas she owned and took her downstairs where she ordered Tilly to make the brunette her finest hot chocolate.

Hermione sat in Bellatrix's lap with her drink while the dark witch whispered foreign words in her ear and asked her to repeat them.

Learning Parseltongue was an odd experience. To Hermione, it all sounded the same at first. It was also difficult to force the words out, despite their simplicity. It was as if, magically, they were impossible. Hermione would open her mouth to speak and find that sounds could come out.

Eventually, when she'd heard Bellatrix coo it to her enough and she'd gone over it enough times in her head, she could say it. Retaining the information was like trying to keep water in a sieve, but after a while Hermione would remember the word, too. Needless to say, the process was exhausting.

However, several hours later, Hermione had learnt a handful of words, including Bellatrix's name. She had drained her mug of hot chocolate twice over and was ready to retire to Bellatrix's bed.

Bella placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's forehead before she motioned for her to stand.

"Come, let's get you to bed."

"I'm not a child, Bella," Hermione smirked, standing regardless.

Bella followed suit, taking her lover's hand. "I never said you were."

"Actually–" Hermione began to recite the many times Bellatrix has referred to her as a child but the dark witch silenced her with a quick kiss.

"I want to enjoy tonight, just in case," she said melancholically.

Hermione's eyebrows drew together. "Nothing's going to happen. We're going to find Harry's killer and then... then you and I will figure it out."

Bella's lips pressed into a thin line and she stared into the abyss that was the now-dead fireplace. "Okay."

Something about seeing Bella like this made Hermione's stomach knot in the worst ways. The behaviour was so vulnerable, so much unlike her.

The Slytherin turned to the muggleborn and played with the golden curls around her face with a forced smile. "You really are beautiful."

Her fingers found the small bottled key around the younger witch's neck and she took it gently so that it rested in the nest provided by her bent index and middle fingers.

"Why is it so special?"

Hermione's voice pulled the Death Eater from her thoughts and her eyes snapped up to the girl who had spoken. "Hm?"

"The necklace, why is it so special?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "A story for another time."

"You have a lot of those," Hermione smiled playfully, "stories for other times."

"Perhaps one day," Bella chuckled, but she looked so sad.

Unfortunately, Hermione knew that pressing the other woman for information would only further ensure that she didn't provide it.

"Come on," Hermione took Bella's hand and started dragging her towards the stairs.

Before they could ascend them however, she pulled the older woman in for a sudden kiss, smiling against the soft lips that crashed against hers.

Whatever Bellatrix was trying to say about getting some sleep was lost on the brunette and, still smiling, she broke the kiss to drag the dark witch up the stairs. Once at the top, she shoved Bellatrix playfully against the wall to give herself a head start and ran for the bedroom.

Bellatrix laughed almost manically from behind and ran after her. When she stepped into her bedroom, however, she ground to a halt.

Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

She stepped towards the foot of the bed, even peering into the bathroom, but she was still nowhere to be found.

Behind her, the door slowly closed.

She turned when she heard it click and narrowed her eyes. "'Mione?"

With a flick, the lights went out, Bellatrix being plunged into near darkness. She thanked the small weak lamp at the bedside for the warm glow it had to offer.

From behind her, she felt a familiar set of small hands run themselves over her hips. She smiled.

Hermione pressed her naked body up against Bellatrix's back, shedding the Cloak of Invisibility and holding her palm out face up in front of the older witch.

Bella watched as a red rose grew from it and Hermione offered it to her as she whispered, "I owed you."

"I love you," Bellatrix whispered, so low it was barely audible to the one it was meant for.

Hermione revelled in the words, warmth spreading through her, and she turned Bella so she was facing her and pulled her into a heavy kiss.

The kiss turned into lots of kisses, Bella's hands finding all their favourite places on Hermione's naked body. To the dark witch's delight, Hermione didn't push her away. Instead, she seemed to be enjoying the touches, which is more than she was doing earlier when they'd returned home.

Bella's hands ran over her breasts and her index fingers brushed over now-hard nipples. They found their way to Hermione's hips and one hand dipped slowly between her legs.

"You're a mess," Bellatrix pointed out playfully.

Hermione let out a soft moan as Bella's fingers slowly ran over her clit and she whimpered when the hand was removed altogether, watching as Bella stepped away and sucked her fingers clean.

Hermione followed the Slytherin to her bed and crawled onto it, straddling Bellatrix who was now leaning back against the pillows against the headboard.

No one spoke, there was just the soft sound of Hermione's gasps and moans as Bella put her hand back between her legs. Hermione's hips rocked gently and she kissed down Bella's jaw.

The Slytherin cursed softly, the first word that had been spoken since migrating to the bed, when Hermione sucked on the sweet spot on her neck. In retaliation, she quickly slipped two fingers inside her.

Hermione let out a surprised squeak, but it quickly turned to moans. Having already been close to coming beforehand, Hermione found herself overwhelmed with the feelings that now spread through her body and she buried her face into Bella's neck as she continued to moan.

Bellatrix didn't need to say a word and neither did Hermione. She felt Hermione's legs shake with the impending orgasm and made a point of gently tangling a hand in the younger woman's hair. She let Hermione keep her face buried between her neck and shoulder as she came undone in her lap.

Bella's hand moved from where it was in Hermione's hair to the shaky girl's back where it gently stroked the soft skin.

When she was sure that Hermione could support herself, she shuffled– awkwardly enough that it made Hermione laugh– until it was no longer her hips between Hermione's legs but her face and she reached up to lick the overly sensitive nerves above her.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and her hand immediately went to Bellatrix's hair, holding a bunch of it at the scalp and using her other hand to support herself by holding onto the headboard.

She looked down at Bellatrix, who was looking back up at her with dark eyes as she licked. Hermione bit her lip and it made Bellatrix hum appreciatively.

"You'll make me come again, Bella," Hermione managed between her moans.

"Hmm," was all Bellatrix could manage, her mouth being as occupied as it was, and she clamped her arms around Hermione's thighs to keep her from being able to move.

Quite quickly, Hermione felt herself come undone for the second time that night but Bellatrix's grip on her did not loosen and the rhythm with her tongue did not waver.

The nails that dug into Bellatrix's scalp scratched harder, now more desperate.

"Bella, please…"

Bellatrix picked up the pace, making eye contact with Hermione again one last time before the brunette threw her head back and pulled on Bellatrix's hair so hard it hurt. A mixture of moans and expletives escaped the Gryffindor's lips and the dark witch couldn't help but smile as her lover came for her again.

When Hermione collapsed onto the mattress next to Bella, she glared at the other woman from her defeated position in the sheets.

"Oh, darling, don't look so mad," the dark witch rolled onto her side, licking her lips and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and, without warning, reached for her wand on the nightstand. With one simple flick of the object, the dark witch's clothes were gone.

"Why the rush?" Bella teased.

The brunette ignored the bait and moved so that she was straddling one of Bella's thighs.

"I thought you'd had enough," another of Bella's attempts to get Hermione to rise to her challenge.

She was quickly silenced when Hermione shoved her own thigh between her legs. Without hesitation, the Gryffindor leaned down and embraced the older woman, kissing her passionately.

Slowly, she made her way down the Death Eater's body, stopping momentarily at Bellatrix's breasts, but moving on quicker than usual to place kisses down Bella's stomach until she found herself in the perfect position to eat the other woman out.

An owl landed in the open window, dropping a letter onto the floor before disappearing as quickly as it had arrived.

Hermione turned her head, pausing her activities to peer at the envelope in the corner of the room over Bellatrix's leg, but slim fingers quickly laced themselves harshly in her hair and she felt her head being guided back to where it was.

Bellatrix caught Hermione's gaze. "It can wait."

Hermione smiled, disregarding the letter immediately, and her face dipped back down to where it was.

— — —

Come morning, after less sleep than would have been ideal, Hermione made further preparations for the upcoming journey.

She had made plans for the morning, plans Bellatrix wasn't involved in, to visit her parents. However, when she had told Bellatrix about these plans, the dark witch had insisted she come along.

Now, she stood leaning against the door while Hermione shoved different items and clothing into her small charmed bag.

"Anyone would think you're leaving me," Bellatrix said, announcing her presence for the first time since arriving.

Hermione, who'd had her back to the door to the bedroom she'd been staying in, jumped and turned. " _Bella_."

"My apologies, did I scare you?" the Slytherin asked mockingly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, turning to the book on the bed which she planned to pack. When she picked it up, however, the coin pouch lying on it tipped over and its contents spilled onto the bed.

She sighed, reaching to collect it all, but something caught her eye. There, buried underneath the coins, was a small piece of paper. On it, Hermione recognised Harry's writing immediately and she snatched it up.

"Bella, look at this," she made her way over to the doorway with drawn eyebrows. "'Floorboards of Privet – it's important.'"

"Privet, as in Privet Drive?" Bella asked.

Hermione nodded. "It's from Harry. I recognise the writing. There must be something there. We'll have time to go and look if we go straight after seeing my parents."

Bellatrix glanced at the paper uneasily.

"It might be the last chance we get to go."

With hesitation, Bellatrix finally gave a nod.

It was manic while they prepared for going to Hogwarts and everything beforehand, so much so that everyone had forgotten about the letter the owl had delivered the previous night. It was the same letter which still lay in the corner of Bellatrix's bedroom, untouched by all besides the sender and the owl that had dropped it through the window.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N:** _Hey guys! Sorry, another slow update…but…_

 _YOU'RE GOING TO FIND OUT WHO KILLED HARRY IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!_

— — —

Hermione's muggle bedroom was exactly as she had left it. Of course, as soon as they'd landed in the middle of the floor, Bellatrix immediately started to overanalyse every muggle decoration, picking it up and cautiously handling it before, seemingly satisfied, putting it back where it belonged.

"Just… stay here," Hermione said uneasily, watching Bellatrix slowly open her wardrobes.

When the dark witch didn't reply, Hermione simply sighed, opening her bedroom door and closing it behind her.

Bellatrix stayed in the bedroom, as Hermione had asked of her, and slowly starting gaining her confidence when it came to handling muggle objects. She learnt that they were not much unlike wizarding ones, only the photos didn't move and nothing felt as animated as it did in the wizarding world.

After flicking through Hermione's wardrobe– which Bella had found atrocious in taste– she moved onto the girl's bedside drawer.

In there, there was a lot of clatter, but that wasn't what intrigued Bellatrix. What caught her attention was that the draw was a lot shallower than it looked. Out of curiosity, she pulled the draw out properly and put it on the bed. As she suspected when she turned the draw around to take a look at the back, there was another piece of wood separating what was the main contents of the drawer and the original bottom to it.

Casting _Lumos_ so that she could see, Bellatrix peered into the opening.

Inside, she found a small bullet-shaped object. It was a hideously coloured pink and felt odd to the touch, like skin only definitely _not_. One end was rounded and the other flat with a button. Bellatrix pressed it.

When the object started to vibrate, a small laugh escaped the dark witch's lips and she placed a hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet.

She had discovered Hermione's vibrator.

She'd come across one once when she'd terrorised some muggles during the first war. She'd made her way into the house to find two women upstairs behind a closed door, one holding a vibrator against the other's clit while the other one moaned.

After seeing it, she'd done some research into the strange sex object and found that they came in all different shapes and sizes, different colours and intensities, and even thought about getting one for herself. The idea of her sister or husband one day discovering it, however, was mortifying enough to put her off for life.

She turned the vibrator off and was about to consider trying it, but slowly, the object started to fade in her hands.

In fact, everything in Hermione's room started to fade.

The pictures on her walls slowly emptied, and all her clothes and old schoolbooks disappeared. Within seconds, it was as if Hermione had never been there, just a load of empty boxes and photographs and a random white-sheeted bed in the middle of the floor.

When the door opened again, tears burned in Hermione's eyes and threatened to fall down her cheeks.

"What did you do?" Bellatrix asked, putting the now-empty drawer back as it had been before.

Hermione wiped her eyes and shook her head, holding out her hands for Bellatrix to take so they could travel to Privet Drive.

Bellatrix hesitated for a moment and, instead of taking Hermione's hands, she pulled the brunette into a tight hug. "You erased their memories, didn't you?"

"Yes," Hermione choked out between her cries.

"Why?"

"The war," she explained, "it's not going to stop anytime soon and even if it does, it's in Voldemort's favour. They're safer this way."

"Let's go home, you can go to Potter's house another time–" Bellatrix started to say, but Hermione cut her off by shaking her head.

"No, we're going now. Ready?"

After thinking about whether or not _Hermione_ might be ready, Bellatrix sighed. She knew Hermione had a tendency to overdo it, to put herself through too much in one go, but there was just no stopping her. So, she took Hermione's hand and they apparated.

— — —

Privet Drive was exactly as Hermione had left it, still untouched and still very much enchanted. Every crack in the paving was the same, every imperfection in the paintwork… there were even still small stone chips on the windows from when Bellatrix had attempted to get Hermione's attention that one time.

Bellatrix stopped at the invisible line created by Albus Dumbledore and frowned, glancing up at the doorway to the house, then to Hermione with uneasy eyes.

"I'll be fine," Hermione attempted to sound reassuring, but she only sounded sad after using _Obliviate_ on her parents.

"Hurry back," Bella said as the Gryffindor continued into the house.

Hermione closed the door behind her after checking that no one was around. She slowly made her way around the house and into Harry's bedroom, which also remained as she had left it before. She looked about, examining the floors for any sign of a break or weakness, a possible hiding spot, but there was nothing.

She even went through all the trouble of pulling the furniture out from its place and checking those places, examining the bottom of each drawer and the wardrobe, between the bed frame and the mattress. She was as thorough as she could be.

It was only when pulling out the chest of drawers– the last piece of furniture she had left to check– that she found a small cut in the carpet. She immediately knelt down and ripped it up to find a hole in the floorboards. In it, there were a few books for school, mainly potions books which Hermione knew Harry had been studying over the summer, and underneath them lay a leatherback bound journal.

It was small and Hermione reached inside the hole, carefully picking it up and retrieving it. When she opened it to the first page, she saw Harry had written in it with a biro, the date at the top of the page. It was short and neat, detailing the first encounter with Voldemort.

Before she could turn the page and read the next entry, the sound of Bellatrix's disgusted voice outside pulled her from her trance and she shoved the book into her bag and ran quickly downstairs.

"It's trespassing," Bellatrix said monotonously, staring down the group of males dressed in baggy jeans and scruffy stained t-shirts, all approximately Hermione's age.

"I live here. Who the hell are you?"

Hermione opened the front door in time to see Bellatrix hiss at the group of boys, making them all take a step back and shuffle around awkwardly as she circled them like prey.

"I'm fucking royalty to you," Bellatrix snapped, turning when she heard the Gryffindor's voice.

"Dudley, I presume," Hermione greeted him and he swaggered over with his friends, all of whom gave Bellatrix anxious backwards glances as they made their way across the front lawn.

"Who wants to know?" he asked.

"Hermione Granger. I was a friend of Harry's."

" _Was_?"

"He's dead."

Silence fell between the two of them, but all of Dudley's mates _ooo_ -ed and _ahh_ -ed as if it was some kind of a sick joke.

"What d'you mean he's _dead_?" the muggle boy ignored his friends and focused his attention on the witch in front of him.

"Would you like a dictionary?" Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow from the other side of the invisible line separating her from the rest of the group.

" _Bellatrix_ ," Hermione said the name harshly, a warning like a parent to a child, and the dark witch stuck her tongue out mockingly before going quiet as had been asked of her anyway.

Hermione turned her attention back to the boy in front of her. "Didn't your parents tell you?"

He shook his head.

"Well… oh, for god's sake, can we please have this conversation inside? Alone?"

More childish laughter rose from the group.

"Shove off, this is important," Dudley grumbled at his following. "You guys wait out here."

"No way!" one of the particularly large group members hollered much too loudly. "I'm not waiting out here with that one. She's bloody mental."

"Yeah, complete nutcase."

Bellatrix peered at them through her eyelashes menacingly. "Watch your tongues, muddies, or I might cut them off."

The two boys who had spoke looked helplessly to their leader.

"Wait in the kitchen, we'll be in the sitting room," he finally resolved and his friends pushed past Hermione to get into the house, away from a very smug looking Bellatrix.

"Try not to break anything," Hermione said to Bella, the Death Eater folding her arms with a smirk.

"I'll do my best. While you're in there, you could try using him to open the Snitch. He's not Harry, but he's a relative and I suppose they share flesh in some weird sort of way…"

"Worth a try."

The words were enough to get Hermione digging around in her bag for the Golden Snitch as she followed Dudley into the sitting room. He motioned for her to take a seat on the floor and took his own seat opposite where he'd motioned to so that they could talk.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

"I'll explain that in a moment. Did your parents really not say anything about Harry dying?"

"Nothin' at all," he folded his arms in a grump and a sad look crossed his features.

Hermione considered for a moment the possibility that he might be sad about his cousin dying, but quickly banished the thought to make room for others.

"What happened, then?" he asked grimly.

"He was murdered," she said, watching Dudley's jaw go slack, "supposedly by that woman out there, but I know it wasn't her and we're well on our way to figuring out who it really was."

"She's a Death Eater, isn' she?" he whispered, as if Bellatrix might hear.

"How'd you know about them?"

Dudley looked pleased with himself for a moment. "Harry talks in his sleep…"

There was a pause and both parties' faces fell.

"Well," he mumbled, "he _used_ to."

"Look, there are other things I'm trying to achieve here, things that are bigger than Harry," Hermione began, holding the Golden Snitch out in her hand. "There is a very bad wizard at large and I believe one of the ways forward regarding stopping this dark wizard is in this. So, I need you to touch it."

"You're barking," Dudley said indignantly.

Before Hermione could begin to contradict him, his pack of friends crowded at the door, glaring at him.

"Dudley, let's go," one of them challenged.

"Give us a minute," Dudley ordered.

"Why? We're bored," the challenger glared at Hermione, "and she isn't worth the time o' day."

Dudley stood, approaching his friend threateningly. "I said, give me a minute."

Hermione watched as the challenger laughed, punching the Dursley boy square in the mouth without warning.

Immediately, she jumped up and stood herself between the two boys in an effort to break up the fight, but the other friends simply manhandled her out of the way. Having dealt with Travers, however, Hermione found it easy to wriggle her way out of the grasps of a group of teenaged boys.

Before she could put some distance between herself and the fight that was breaking out, however, one of them grabbed the small glass bottle around her neck and the chain broke, the object falling to the floor before it was stepped on and the bottle smashed.

Dudley knocked his attacker against the wall where he slumped down and held his hands up in surrender, his nose bleeding heavily onto his shirt, and as soon as he surrendered, the rest of the group settled.

"What the hell's wrong with you? My cousin is dead!" Dudley shouted.

Shamefully and without a word, the boys left.

"I'm sorry," Dudley said to Hermione as he watched her reach down to pick up the broken pieces of her necklace. "I'll make him get it repaired for you, if you want–"

But as Hermione's fingertips touched the golden key, she felt the pull of travel by Port Key wash over her and, within seconds, she landed in a large bed of very spiky fibres.

It was dark, warm– almost too warm– and whatever fibres she landed on she felt prickle into her clothes. She could have sworn she heard a hissing noise, but in the dimly lit cave-like area she couldn't make out many shapes.

The hissing grew louder and she came to recognise it as the sound of a snake.

 _Why on earth did Bellatrix have a key to a snake's nest?_

When Hermione caught a glimpse of the snake which was now starting to coil itself around her, however, she realised that this must be Nagini, one of Voldemort's most treasured Horcruxes.

The snake's words didn't register at first, but as Hermione began to tune into the still-new language of Parseltongue, she recognised the words she was chanting as, " _Eat, eat, eat, eat._ "

" _No_!" she hissed back in her newest language. " _Friend_."

" _The Dark Lord does not like you,_ " Nagini said, but some of the words were lost on Hermione and the snake wound itself around her tighter and tighter, slowly increasing the pressure with her arms to her sides so she could not access her wand.

" _Please, don't._ "

" _Eat, eat, eat, eat, eat._ "

— — —

"She's disappeared, she's disappeared!" Dudley ran from the house up to Bellatrix not long after his friends had left, one of them looking rather worse for wear.

"What do you mean, she's disappeared?" Bellatrix's attention turned immediately to the hyperventilating boy.

He continued to pant between each word as he explained. "She–" _pant_ , "picked up–" _pant_ , "her necklace–" _pant_ , "one of the guys–" _pant_ , "broke it–" _pant_ , "and then–"

"Oh, no," Bellatrix cut him off suddenly and she closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Right, come on, grab my hand."

"What?" Dudley managed, still short of breath. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I'm going to take you out for dinner," Bellatrix said seriously with a raised eyebrow, offering her hand. Then, a second later, she dropped it. "I'm taking you to find Hermione so that she can get you to do what she needs you to do and we can be on time for our third and final appointment today."

When he didn't offer to go with her, she hissed at him, "Do you want her to die, too?"

"No, I don't want anybody to die!" he whimpered.

"Right," Bellatrix offered her hand again, "then take it."

In a sudden panic, Dudley grabbed Bella's hand and the dark witch tried not to flinch at the sweaty feeling of his palm against hers.

When they landed, the Dursley boy immediately stumbled and fell backwards against the wall as he observed Hermione being slowly engulfed in Nagini's coiled body.

"Bella..." the brunette ached out, "help…"

Instantaneously, Bellatrix hissed at the snake, turning into her Animagus form so that she could lunge at the creature who dared hurt her Hermione.

Nagini quickly unwound herself from around the Gryffindor, unable to pass up the opportunity to engage in a fight with another snake, something she obviously rarely got to do.

However, she was unfairly matched.

Bellatrix, while she lacked basic instincts, made up for it ten times over with her intelligence. She was just as familiar with fighting in her snake form as Nagini was, but also knew through her basic human knowledge which points would be weakest, that if she managed to get one bite in then Nagini would be dead within a few hours.

Hermione scrambled across the floor to Dudley in fright as the two snakes began to fight.

It didn't last long.

Before she could obtain any major injuries, Bellatrix's teeth were deep inside Nagini's skull and her body was wrapped tightly around the other snake's, ensuring that if she wasn't dead from the head wound or venom, she certainly would be from the crushing force the Slytherin was putting on her entire body.

"What the hell is happening?" Dudley looked like he was about to have a panic attack, the poor boy. He really had been thrown in at the deep end.

Bellatrix ignored him when she turned back into her human form, going straight to Hermione who was staring at Nagini's corpse in shock.

"Hermione, darling, it's okay, you're safe."

When Hermione found it in herself to move her eyes up to meet her lover's, she exploded. "Why on earth would you give me a Port Key to Satan's Mistress' actual den?!"

"You're blowing this entire thing out of proportion," Bellatrix argued back, obviously satisfied that Hermione hadn't obtained any long-term injuries.

" _Am I_?!" Hermione yelled. "And what's _he_ doing here?"

"I didn't want to come!" Dudley defended himself.

Bellatrix reached for Hermione's bag to search for the snitch while the Gryffindor snappily told him to keep quiet.

"This," Bellatrix handed him the snitch, "is why I brought you."

"Don't give it to him!" Hermione snapped, but Bellatrix held down her hands so she couldn't snatch it back after Dudley had taken the leather pouch containing the snitch carefully in his hands.

"Open it," Bella ordered.

Slowly, and with an expression that conveyed utter cluelessness, the Dursley opened the leather pouch and picked the Golden Snitch up carefully between his fingers.

Everyone held their breath, but nothing happened and Bellatrix's shoulders sagged as she released Hermione's hands and she pouted slightly. "That was… anti-climatic."

"He swallowed it," Hermione mumbled, eyebrows drawn together as she flashed back to the moment Harry caught his first Golden Snitch.

Bellatrix turned to her and her face turned angular, her jaw slack. "You what now?"

"He swallowed the Snitch," the Gryffindor repeated clearly. "Harry, when he first caught it, he accidentally swallowed it. Dudley, try putting it to your lips?"

Dudley laughed. "You're mental!"

"Do as she says," Bellatrix told him menacingly.

"Alright! _Alright_!"

And so, without hesitation, Dudley brought the Snitch up to his lips.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:** _When it comes to Hermione and Bella getting into Hogwarts, I honestly have no idea what I'm doing so if it's all a mess then I'm sorry don't hate me. Also, killer revelation is in this chapter so… don't hate me for that either please, even though I feel like you're all gonna._

 _Lastly, thank you so so so much to NotesFromTheChamber for helping me think up this fanfiction._

 _I hope you enjoy the last chapter of part 1 :) it hasn't been beta read, so apologies xD_

 ** _PLEASE DO NOT POST REVIEWS WITH SPOILERS!_**

 _— — —_

After Dudley had opened the Golden Snitch to reveal the Resurrection Stone, Bellatrix had snatched it from his hands and pocketed it. She'd jumped to her own defence, saying that such an object should never be in the hands of a muggle. When Hermione had asked if she could put it in her bag, however, Bellatrix had ignored her.

Bellatrix apparated herself and Dudley back to Privet Drive, telling Hermione to meet them there. Sure enough, as soon as she landed, Hermione popped up next to her.

"Are you alright?" the Slytherin asked her lover. "You look rather pale."

"I'm fine, I just almost got myself killed by a Horcrux. What do you think Voldemort will do when he discovers Nagini's body?"

"He already knows," Bellatrix mumbled, almost bitterly.

Hermione looked to the older woman with a questioning expression, urging her to explain.

"My dark mark, it's hurting," she said.

Hermione frowned. "Are you going to be okay?"

Bella nodded. "Let's focus on getting rid of this one for now."

Dudley looked between the two witches frantically. "You're gonna kill me?"

Bellatrix pouted mockingly, approaching him and grabbing him by his upper arm. " _You're going to kill me? Oh, please don't kill me!_ "

Hermione watched the dark witch make sniffling noises at the Dursley boy as she dragged him over to her, making the Gryffindor roll her eyes. "Let him go, Bella."

Pointedly, she released him and stalked off to let Hermione deal with the muggle.

"I'm going to let you go," she told him.

"You're… you're gonna let me go?" he confirmed.

"I am, and you're going to go back to your parents and you're not going to breathe a word of the things you did or witnessed today, or I'm going to let Bellatrix find you," the Gryffindor said firmly.

Dudley paled considerably and asked, "What will _she_ do?"

"Well, I don't know, but she's tortured a grown man into insanity before, so I guess you could take your chances."

— — —

Having originally planned to find a way around the jinx and apparate inside the grounds of Hogwarts, that plan was quickly diminished when Bellatrix's attempt to apparate a short distance as a snake failed miserably. So, with the use of the Invisibility Cloak, Hermione and Bella apparated to Honeydukes, hoping and praying that the passageway had not been blocked off.

It had not, so the two made their way into the tunnel and started on their journey to Hogwarts.

"Are we even going to make it at this rate?" Hermione asked, the two of them holding their illuminated wands up to light the way.

"I don't know, I hope so…" Bellatrix sounded so far away, so caught up in her own thoughts, and Hermione wondered what she might be thinking about.

 _Perhaps she's just worried,_ she thought. After all, Bellatrix was taking a huge risk stepping anywhere near somewhere like Hogwarts. The chances of her being seen and caught where too high for comfort, yet here she was.

"Let's say, hypothetically, that I don't make it out today…" the Slytherin began.

Hermione sighed. "You're going to make it out of this."

"I said hypothetically," Bella didn't look at the brunette, keeping her eyes on the tunnel ahead. "What would you do?"

The younger witch stayed quiet for a moment, then, "Why does this even matter?"

"It matters to me, I need to know that you've got a plan, that you'll be okay if things don't turn out okay."

Another sigh and Hermione pondered her answer. She didn't know what she would do, but at this point, Bellatrix's peace of mind was more important than the truth.

"I'd go back to the safehouse, look after the elves, expand your library collection…" she said, "and live out the rest of my life eating Moody's food."

Bellatrix smiled. "You'd really go back and look after them?"

Hermione nodded. In a way, she wasn't lying at all. Of course, if something happened to Bellatrix then she'd return to the safehouse. Whether she'd be able to stay with all the memories connected to it, she didn't know, but she'd take the elves with her wherever she went to ensure their safety and wellbeing.

 _But nothing is going to happen to Bellatrix,_ she reminded herself shakily.

It didn't take them much longer to reach the end of the tunnel and they emerged from the witch statue's belly, the Invisibility Cloak draped over both of them.

"I hope you remember the way, because I don't," Bella whispered.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Being in such close proximity to Bellatrix under such a tiny cloak caused some problems– stepping on each other's toes to name one and Bellatrix attempting to feel Hermione up to name another– so half way through their journey to Filch's office, Bellatrix turned herself into a snake and wound herself around Hermione's shoulders.

The brunette cursed as she felt her shoulders ache with Bella's weight, but carried on until they reached the office.

Before they could step inside, Hagrid walked past in a hurry and Hermione held her breath so that the half-giant wouldn't hear her. As soon as he had passed, however, they slipped inside.

"Close the door, close the door!" Bellatrix hissed as she returned to her human form.

"Yes, miss," Hermione joked and Bellatrix shot her a glare before they both turned to face the mess that was Filch's office.

The papers piled high from the floor in the dimly lit room, chests and boxes overflowed with contraband, and the desk which Filch supposedly worked at was covered in cat fur, a clear favourite perching place for Mrs Norris.

Thankfully, the cat was nowhere to be seen.

"Where to start?" Hermione blinked.

"The end would be nice," Bellatrix replied. "If he was the killer, he certainly didn't brew it in here. You'd be able to smell it, like you can in my potions room. Yellow Peril has a very distinctive smell and it leaves behind a trace for months on end."

"I don't think it's him…" Hermione frowned. "You know, he's a terrible man but I don't think he'd outright murder a student, or have the wherewithal to figure out your potion."

"What on earth are you two doing in here?!"

Hermione winced. They had been late, after all. She planned to explain that she had simply taken a wrong turn– a pathetic excuse, she knew, but the best she could come up with on the spot– but Bellatrix had already used Imperio on the old man.

She turned around to see Filch looking rather dazed, even considering the curse he was under, as he stared vacantly into Bellatrix's eyes.

"Sit down," she ordered, and he took a seat in his office chair immediately. "Hermione, do we have a vial of Veritaserum left?"

"Plenty," the Gryffindor replied, closing the open door before she dug around in her bag for the correct vial, handing it to the Death Eater.

Of course, this had been an ideal outcome, regardless of their previous plans. They could just use Veritaserum on him, Obliviate him and leave. There was no promising that they would get any information to lead them to a following suspect, though.

"Perfect. Here, drink this."

Filch, without question, did as he was told.

Once he'd taken it, Bellatrix lifted the curse from him and he glared at them both. "Okay, so you obviously want to ask me some questions. Go on, get done with it."

"This," Bellatrix showed him the seal. "You confiscated a seal like this from a student before. I want to know what happened to it."

The old man laughed. "You think I remember each and every item I take from those students? You're mad!"

"So you don't remember it and you didn't have any involvement in Harry Potter's murder?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, not!" Filch snapped.

Hermione looked to Bellatrix, signalling her to do the usual obliviate routine, which she did. All too quickly, they were out of Filch's office in the hallway, tucked into a corner with the cloak wrapped around them both, whispering to each other about what they could possibly do next.

"Could anyone have access to Filch's office?" Bellatrix asked.

"Every teacher and possibly every student if they tried hard enough," Hermione sighed, "as we just demonstrated."

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out the small journal Harry had written and left under his bedroom floorboards. She flicked through it.

"Well, as I said before, they would've needed my species of snake venom and it's not exactly easy to come across," Bella said as Hermione skimmed through each entry.

It included the Dementor attacks, the time he almost died saving Sirius, the time he nearly died falling off of his broom because it had been tampered with, even how easily it could have been for him to die riding Buckbeak but that had been Hagrid so there was no way that could possibly have been related.

"I mean, who do you know who would have had access to Harry, the things he eats and drinks, and also exotic creatures?"

Hermione's heart sunk.

 _There's no way…_

"What?" Bellatrix asked, clearly registering Hermione's panic-stricken expression.

"I… I think it was Hagrid."

"The fucking gamekeeper?" Bellatrix laughed. "You're insane."

"No," Hermione flicked through the journal and pointed out specific events. "Look, ninety percent of these things, Hagrid was present for and if he wasn't then there's no telling he didn't orchestrate them. Harry used to see him all the time, he used to drink tea at his house regularly. Hagrid used to import all types of creatures. He was the last person to see Harry alive."

"Hermione, you're crying," Bellatrix cupped her lover's face in her hands and wiped away the tears with her thumbs. "Calm down."

 _Yellow Peril has a very distinctive smell and it leaves behind a trace for months on end._

"I smelt it," Hermione snivelled, choking on her own cries.

"What?"

"Yellow Peril."

"When?" the Slytherin's eyes widened.

"Before I ran away, I… I went to see him. I thought it was perfume, I thought he was seeing someone," she shook her head. "I'm so stupid."

Bellatrix's face fell and she let her hands drop, the cloak falling to the floor at their feet as she watched the Gryffindor cry.

"He murdered him. He… he was our best friend. Why would he… Bella, why would he kill Harry?"

Bellatrix wrapped Hermione up in her arms, holding her in the tightest hug. She didn't let go, just letting Hermione cry.

"Are you sure?" she asked, still not letting the brunette go.

Hermione nodded against the older woman's chest. "There's no other explanation. Hagrid would have the easiest access to all the things he needed. Remember, Willis said he was a creepy-looking tall guy? Hagrid fits that description. Throughout Harry's entire life, Hagrid's always managed to say just the right thing to get Harry to get himself into danger, he's dropped just the right hints. I can't… I can't believe he…"

"Perhaps you should go and check his hut?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione nodded again. "To be sure. The smell will still be there, won't it?"

"It should be," Bella said. "You go and I'll wait at the entrance? I don't want to be seen on the grounds, it'll make things much too complicated."

"Okay, I'll come and find you soon," the young witch looked up at Bellatrix through tear-filled eyes.

"I love you," Bellatrix whispered, as if it was the biggest secret she'd ever told, and she pulled Hermione in for a kiss, taking the brunette's chin gently between her thumb and forefinger.

"See you soon," Hermione gave the dark witch a small smile before she took the cloak and wrapped it around her body, disappearing and heading for Hagrid's hut.

— — —

Hermione stepped up to the front door of Hagrid's hut and found that it had been left ajar. This was most unlike the half-giant and she slowly opened it and stepped inside.

The place was practically empty. What was left of the hut was a mess, left in such a way that told Hermione that when Hagrid had left, he'd left in a hurry. All of the items that Hermione had noticed Hagrid favoured were gone. Even Fang's favourite bone was gone, along with Fang himself, and it dawned on Hermione that Hagrid had left that very day.

She remembered him passing, looking quite flustered, before she'd entered Filch's office.

With a tear slipping down her cheek, she inhaled and recognised the sweet smell that Yellow Peril gave off.

There was no time for tears and Hermione couldn't afford to indulge in them. She needed to get back to Bellatrix, to return with confirmation that Hagrid had been the killer all along.

She ran back up to the castle, heading for the main entrance to meet up with Bella and decide on their next move.

Before she could make it there, however, she ran into McGonagall.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed as she almost ran into her, cloak tucked away safely in her bag.

"Miss Granger, I suspected you'd be around the castle," the Gryffindor house mistress said pointedly.

"You did?" Hermione asked airily, worried for a moment that her plans had been exposed, but she relaxed when her professor nodded.

"Bellatrix told me everything."

"You... you spoke to Bellatrix?"

Minerva nodded again. "Quite civilly. She had plenty to say about you, all praise. Said you're a force to be reckoned with. She told me about Hagrid and Harry's murder, to spare you having to."

Hermione's heart warmed. "So, you see that she's changed, Professor? She's not the woman she was before."

"I quite agree," Minerva smiled a small smile. "Whatever you did, you seem to have convinced Ms Black of the error of her ways."

"It wasn't easy," Hermione laughed lightly.

Minerva joined in. "I can't imagine it was. I, myself, was quite shocked. I've never seen Bellatrix go quietly."

Hermione's eyes flickered over her Professor's face, eyebrows drawn together, and her voice came out smaller than she intended it. "She... what?"

"We detained her in the tower. She agreed, said it would be easiest."

Hermione shook her head. "Professor, I..."

"Hermione, oh, thank Merlin!" Narcissa appeared from around the corner, her friendly greeting surprising the brunette into silence. "I was worried, when I heard what happened to Bellatrix, that things had gone wrong. But apparently, she just handed herself over without a word in defence. Do you know what happened?"

The tears that were spilling over Hermione's cheeks were the giveaway that she hadn't the slightest clue. She shook her head.

Then, "What are you doing here, Mrs Malfoy?"

The blonde woman smiled bitterly. "Turns out my husband is spying on me for the Dark Lord, so I've taken Draco and we're seeking shelter at Hogwarts. I've had enough of that life, I never wanted it anyway. Did you not get my owl?"

Hermione thought back to the letter that had dropped through the window when her and Bellatrix had been otherwise engaged and shook her head. "No," she lied, "we we haven't been back for a few days."

The Black sister gave a curt nod. "Mhm. Miss Granger, owls do not work like muggle mail. They find the recipient, remember?"

Hermione opened her mouth only to snap it shut. "I can explain..." she began.

"I'm sure I can already guess," Narcissa replied uninterestedly, then she turned to Minerva. "A word, please?"

Hermione took her leave, too upset to be caught up in any conversation between the two older women, and she made her way quickly up to the tower where Bellatrix was being kept. She was careful that no one saw her, knocking out the guards at the door with a simple spell, before taking the key and unlocking it.

Inside the room, it was dark and damp. Old rusted chains lined the walls underneath three tiny evenly spread out windows. There was one window per cell and Bellatrix had been placed in the middle one.

Hermione ran up to the Death Eater who was sitting on the chair they'd provided her by the window.

"Bella!"

"Hermione," the dark witch replied lovingly, standing so that she could greet her at the bars.

Hermione frantically tried the key she had but it didn't work.

"Hermione, calm down," Bella whispered, hands coming through the bars to cradle Hermione's cheeks.

"No, no, no!" Hermione tore herself from the embrace and pointed her wand at the door. "Stand back."

Bellatrix did as she was told but the expression she wore was pitying as Hermione tried _Bombarda_ on the bars.

Nothing happened.

"You need a key, darling," Bellatrix explained softly.

" _Alohamora_!" Hermione shouted.

Nothing.

"Hermione, stop."

She didn't, she flung spell after spell at the cell bars, but it was all in vain. Nothing happened, nothing even chipped.

Eventually, she collapsed on the floor in front of the cell door and Bellatrix came back so that she could stroke Hermione's hair through the bars.

"You can't do it, no one can. It uses a specific key."

Hermione cried, turning her face so she could nuzzle into one of Bellatrix's wrists. "Why would you do this? We would have figured something out, we would have—"

"Been on the run," Bella finished. "You've got your entire life ahead of you and you deserve so much more than spending it running away with me."

Hermione shook her head. "That's not true. Bella, I love you. I'm in love with you. Please, please, please, we need to get you out of here. You can't go back to Azkaban."

Bellatrix looked into Hermione's eyes and, seeing only sincerity, felt tears slip down her own cheeks. "Your timing really is awful."

"What?"

"Well," the Slytherin said lightly, despite her tears, "here I was thinking I was all alone in love."

Hermione put her forehead against the bars and Bellatrix did the same. The bars were just thick enough that they stopped their foreheads from touching, but both witches reached through to embrace one another lovingly.

"I don't want you to go anywhere."

"I love you, Hermione, but you deserve to love someone who can offer you a happy life, not one spent running away from everyone they used to call their friends. I can't do that to you."

"But–"

The door clicked and, stopping in her tracks as soon as she laid eyes on the women before her, Minerva walked in.

"Miss Granger…" she stuttered, trying to find the words.

Hermione stood, tears still falling uncontrollably down her cheeks, and she stalked up to her teacher. She was so caught up in the moment that she didn't notice Narcissa standing behind the Gryffindor house mistress.

"Professor, you can't do this. It's wrong. Bellatrix solved Harry's murder just as much as I did, she's a good person, you can't send her back to that godawful prison!"

Snape stepped forward from behind the Malfoy woman. "Miss Granger, while I am aware that you and Bellatrix have built yourselves a strong friendship," Hermione cringed at the sound of the word, _friendship_ , "I would advise that you also consider what this woman has done before she met you. But as it happens, we come here with an offer."

Bellatrix scoffed from behind the bars, the only evidence of her ever having been upset being the slightly red tint around her eyes. "An offer? You're here to bargain with me?"

The group stayed quiet as the dark witch began to pace the length of her cage.

"And what of you, Cissy? Why are you here?"

Narcissa stepped forward, looking sweetly upon her older sister. "Lucius has been spying on me. I came to Hogwarts seeking shelter for myself and Draco. The Dark Lord has simply gone too far. He sent people to attack me."

Bellatrix hissed, stopping her pacing immediately and grabbing ahold of the bars with both hands.

The younger Black sister continued, walking slowly closer to her sister. "It was my idea, the offer. I beg of you to accept. I think it's the only way forward, the only way that we are going to succeed in putting an end to this. This war, it's too much. You know so much about the Dark Lord, you could help us bring him down."

Bella's chin tilted up slightly. "You say he ordered an attack on you?"

"Yes," Narcissa nodded.

"Who did he send?"

"Dolohov, Karkaroff and…" the blonde woman stiffened, "Lucius."

There was another hiss from behind the bars.

"Bella, please," the Malfoy reasoned, "will you listen to what McGonagall has to say?"

Bellatrix looked at Hermione. There was a shimmer of hope in the Gryffindor's eyes and it warmed her. It made her want to listen to what Minerva was going to offer her, it made her want to try. She waved her hand at the Hogwarts professor with an eye roll, the closest anyone was ever going to get to agreement.

"We will let you go free, if you help us achieve what no one has ever managed to achieve before. We want to kill Voldemort," Minerva explained.

Bellatrix's face twisted into something angry, angular and violent, and Narcissa quickly jumped to encourage her sister.

"He tried to have me killed, Bella," she said brokenly.

Bellatrix turned to Hermione, almost as if she were looking for confirmation. Hermione didn't know anymore about the offer than Bellatrix did, but she knew that if she could get Bellatrix on _their_ side, they could be together. That was all she cared about, that and keeping the dark witch out of Azkaban.

The Slytherin woman's eyes landed on McGonagall's. "What are your terms?"

"In exchange for your freedom, we want you to help us put an end to Voldemort and the war. While you are helping us, you will have to be kept under close watch. You will stay in the castle in an assigned living quarters, have regular check ups and be expected to attend every mealtime like everyone else here."

"So, I'm not really free at all, am I?" the Slytherin sassed.

"It's better than Azkaban," Hermione whispered in a small voice, tears forming in her eyes again at the mere thought of Bellatrix going back there.

"Is it?" the dark witch lifted an eyebrow at her partner.

"These are the terms," Minerva continued. "Do you accept, Madame Lestrange? Or would you like some time to consider our offer?"

Bellatrix smirked from behind the bars, giving Hermione a reassuring look before she focused her attention on Minerva again. "I have a better idea."

— — —

 ** _END OF PART 1_**

 **A/N:** _I hope you all enjoyed the final chapter of Part 1. I'm going to be posting Part 2 soon. I have a storyline, just need to make sure it's in proper order, etc. So the next chapter should be up in a couple weeks. I will be posting the chapters into this story, I won't make a new one, I just wanted to break everything up a little bit._

 _Thank you so, so much for reading. It really means the world. If you haven't already, I'd love to know what you think 3_

 _Love, tw_


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